Not Again
1272 Words
I got up and walked towards Ethan. My heart was still racing. How much had he seen?
“Come, baby, let’s go back to bed,” I said softly, brushing his curls away from his face and forcing a smile. He stared up at me with sleepy eyes, confused and full of questions. But I ignored them. I couldn’t answer. Not now.
I led him back into his room, tucked him into bed, and waited by the door until his breathing slowed. Hopefully, by morning, he’d forget what he saw. Or maybe he’d think it was just a bad dream. I prayed it was that.
As soon as I closed his door, I went back to the living room and picked up the small recorder. It was still lying on the couch like it belonged there. Like it had a right to be in my space. In my home.
My hands shook as I stared at the tiny black device. Liam. He must have planted it. Who else could it be?
The anger hit me hard.I felt stupid. Betrayed. Again.
How many times was I going to let this man walk in and out of my life like I was a damn toy? How many times would I let him break my trust and still end up in his arms like a fool?
I thought about last night… how he kissed me… how I kissed him back. The feel of his hands on my skin, the way I melted into him like a woman starved of love. Maybe that was it, I was a woman starved of love.
I hated myself for letting it happen again.
Cathy would be so disappointed. I had promised her. Promised I’d never let him touch me again. But here I was… used and lied to. Again.
Enough was enough.
I grabbed my keys and the recorder, shoved it into my pocket, and waited until morning. The moment Lopez came in to take care of Ethan, I drove straight to Liam’s office.
I didn’t even think. I was boiling inside.
The moment I stepped through the large sliding glass doors, the receptionist looked up and started to say something, but I walked right past her like I owned the building. My heels clicked against the shiny marble floor as I marched to the front desk.
“I need to see Liam Sinclair,” I said, not bothering with pleasantries.
The receptionist blinked at me. “Ma’am, do you have an appointment—?”
“Call him,” I snapped. “Tell him Isabel is here.”
She picked up the phone quickly and whispered into the receiver. A moment later, she nodded. “You can go up. He’s expecting you.”
Oh, I bet he is.
I took the elevator to the top floor, my heart beating like a drum. I was done playing nice. Done letting him mess with my head.
When the elevator doors opened, his assistant tried to stop me, but Liam’s voice rang out from his office.
“Let her in.”
I pushed the door open without knocking and stormed in.
He was sitting behind his sleek black desk, dressed in a white shirt with the top buttons undone, no tie. His jacket was hanging on a chair nearby, and he looked as relaxed as ever. Smug, even.
“Isabel,” he said, standing up slowly. “To what do I owe this beautiful surprise?”
I pulled the recorder from my pocket and threw it onto his desk. “You tell me.”
He glanced at the recorder, then looked back at me, raising a brow. “What’s this?”
“You really gonna pretend you don’t know?” I hissed. “You planted it in my apartment.
He chuckled, like it was all some big joke.
“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning against the edge of the desk. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “Don’t you dare stand there and lie to my face.”
His eyes narrowed, the smile slowly slipping from his lips. “Isabel, I swear to you, I didn’t plant that thing in your apartment.”
I scoffed. “Right. So it just walked in by itself?”
“I’m serious,” he said. “Why would I do that?”
“To keep tabs on me! To check if I’ve moved on? If I’m seeing someone else? You’re obsessed with control. You always were.”
He shook his head, stepping closer. “I didn’t put that recorder there.”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know,” he said, and this time his voice dropped, serious and deep. “But I promise you, it wasn’t me.”
We stood there in silence, breathing hard, staring at each other like we were about to start a war.
Then he stepped even closer. I could feel the heat from his body.
“Why do you always assume the worst of me?” he asked quietly.
“Because you give me every reason to,” I said, my voice trembling now. “You lie. You cheat. You disappear. And then you show up and ruin everything all over again.”
“I didn’t lie last night,” he whispered.
I looked away, fighting the tears burning in my eyes. “You hurt me, Liam.”
“I know,” he said. “And I hate myself for it.”
His hand reached up and gently brushed my cheek, his touch soft and warm. I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
“I missed you, Isabel,” he said. “Every single damn day.”
My breath caught.
“Don’t,” I whispered. “Please don’t…”
But he stepped closer until our bodies were almost touching. His eyes locked on mine, intense and full of something dangerous. Something addictive.
“Last night wasn’t a mistake,” he said. “You felt it too.”
I shook my head, but I didn’t move away. “You’re like a drug,” I said softly. “And I hate that I keep letting you in.”
“Then don’t fight it,” he said. “Let me in.”
His lips brushed mine, soft at first, just a tease. Then he kissed me fully, hungrily, like a man starved. And just like that, I was lost again.
I kissed him back, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. He groaned against my mouth and lifted me onto his desk, pushing everything aside without looking.
His hands ran up my thighs, under my dress, fingers brushing dangerously close to where I was already throbbing for him.
I gasped, my head falling back as his mouth moved to my neck, trailing kisses and little bites that made my whole body tremble.
“Liam…” I breathed, clutching his hair.
“I want you,” he growled, his hands roaming freely now. “Right here. Right now.”
But suddenly, a knock came on the door.
We both froze.
“Sir?” his assistant called. “You have that board meeting in five minutes.”
I jumped off the desk, fixing my dress and pulling away from him like I had been burned.
He sighed, adjusting his shirt, still watching me with dark eyes.
“This isn’t over,” he said, voice low.
“Oh, it is,” I said, my voice shaking. “Because next time, I won’t be this weak.”
But even as I said it, I knew I didn’t believe myself.
- Writer
