When Andrew Best reached Amelia’s door, something told him that no amount of words could undo the damage he had done.
Still, he knocked.
Silence.
He knocked again. “Amelia, open the door.”
Nothing.
Andrew clenched his jaw. “Damn it, Amelia. Just talk to me.”
The door suddenly swung open, and Amelia stood there, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed—but the fire in her gaze had never burned brighter.
“You have some nerve,” she bit out, crossing her arms. “What could you possibly want now, Andrew? Haven’t you humiliated me enough?”
Andrew exhaled harshly. “It’s not what you think.”
Amelia let out a humorless laugh. “Oh? So I didn’t just walk in and see you in bed with Sophia? I must’ve imagined that, right?”
His fists clenched at his sides. “It was a moment of weakness. A mistake.”
“
