“Are you really that incredibly arrogant?” she interrupted, taking a step forward, tears finally spilling down her pale cheeks, but with a ferocity that took my breath away. “Do you really think my life stopped because you gave me one night of your precious time? I didn’t spend the last few months crying over you in a corner. A few weeks before I left New York—right after that night in your office—I saw an ex-boyfriend. Someone from my past. We slept together, Sebastian. So spare me the drama. This child is his.”
An ex-boyfriend, another man. The phrase pierced my chest like a red-hot dagger, twisting in my gut. Someone else had touched her.
Someone else had slipped between her sheets while I spent sleepless nights in my fiftieth-floor office, breathing in the lingering traces of her per
