But he already had learned them. He’d gone behind my back before he’d ever really spoken to me, read my police record, done his own research. And in the end, he was still with me. How was this any different?

I wouldn’t know until I saw it.

My finger clicked the file open. I enlarged the picture to full-screen. Then I sat back and watched.

The video swept across a building as it moved to focus on its subjects. Then it settled on the back of a head. It didn’t matter that I only could see hair and shoulders—I knew that hair. Knew the color and the texture by heart. I even knew that suit jacket. A dark blue Ralph Lauren. Not one of my favorites but definitely familiar.

Hudson’s head swiveled slightly one way then the other. He was kissing someone—making out with her. His body completely hid the other person. All I could see of the woman were her small hands wrapped around his neck.

Jealousy wracked my body. I couldn’t help it. Sure, it was before I knew him, but this was my man, my love, kissing someone else. If Stacy had come to meet him, thinking they were about to go on a date—well, that explained why she’d been upset.

Then the kiss ended. And for a moment I was thrilled.

But he moved away, and there she was—her face flushed, her lips plump from the kiss, her blonde hair wrapped tightly into the chignon that was typical of her style.

I felt the blood drain from my face. Hudson and Celia. I’d thought about the possibility before, but seeing it for real was much worse than I could have ever imagined. So much worse.

The video kept on. Celia reached out to straighten Hudson’s tie. He shooed her away, turning more fully to the camera. Now I could focus on his face. His expression made my gut wrench—he was smiling, laughing almost. Something he’d done so rarely before he’d met me. At least, that’s what I’d come to believe about him. It was that happy, carefree expression that made it impossible for me to excuse the kiss as being one-sided. They’d both been into it.

Then, when she started to walk away, he pulled her back into another kiss. Slower, sweeter.

The video ended there.

Thankfully. Because any more and I was going to throw up. Except that didn’t stop me from pushing play again.

I pulled my legs up to my chest as I watched this time. Each second of their kiss, my chest tightened in anguish. It would have been cliché to say my heart was breaking. As if it could actually tear apart from emotional pain and still allow a person to live. How trite.

Besides, it didn’t feel like that. It felt like a vise-grip. Constricting. Like someone had taken the organ from my chest and squeezed.

All the times I’d asked, all the times he’d denied...

But if it had been a scam, a scam on Stacy—my hopes lifted for a moment as I reasoned that scenario. Maybe the kiss wasn’t real. Maybe it had all been Celia and Hudson playing a game together. He’d never said he’d involved Celia in his charades, but knowing that she was also a player, wasn’t it a good possibility?

It was marginally better. They’d still been kissing, but it meant he hadn’t lied to me about their relationship. It meant they’d never truly been together.

It took the third time viewing the video before I realized the flaw in that theory. When I’d seen it enough to be able to catch the details and not just be focused on the kiss. Hudson had said his scheming had been over for some time before he met me. That he’d been in therapy and had been on the wagon, so to say.

But the sign on the building behind them—it was for the Stern Symposium. That had been the night of my presentation. The night Hudson saw me for the first time. The night he said he knew that I was special.

The night that began everything for me and Hudson, he’d been kissing Celia Werner.

Either he was still scheming when he met me or he’d been dating her. Either way, he’d lied.

Having an alcoholic parent, I’d chosen to never use liquor to settle my emotions. My addictions were of a totally different nature. But the emotions boiling inside of me needed something stronger. I went to the library bar and reached for a shot glass and a bottle of tequila.

***

“Here you are.”

When Hudson found me almost an hour later, I was outside on the balcony, looking out over the railing. I’d intended to be shit-faced by the time he got home, but had only managed four shots. For me that was enough to make me impaired.

But it hadn’t been enough to stop the throbbing ache in my chest.

I glanced at him over my shoulder. I’d prepared several speeches, but at the sight of him, they all left me. “I didn’t realize you were home.”

I turned back to the view. It was far less devastating than looking at the man who’d betrayed me.

“I am.” In my periphery, I saw him move up beside me. “You don’t come out here very often.”

I shrugged. “It scares me.” I was cold to him—my tone, my entire demeanor. There was no way he missed it.

Tentatively, he attempted to figure it out. “You’re afraid of heights?”

“Not really. It’s falling that scares me.” I gave a small laugh as I realized the relation of the fear to the feeling I was experiencing at the moment. “It’s actually thrilling to be out here. Being so high up, feeling so untouchable, the wind rushing at you from below. I can see why so many people are intrigued by the idea of flying. Problem is, no matter how good the flight, you always have to come back down eventually. And lots of times, that return is a free fall.”

“You’re waxing poetic tonight.” His frown was apparent in his voice.

“Am I?” I gathered up my strength and turned to look at him. “I suppose so.”

Hudson smiled and took a step in my direction, his arms reaching for me.

I stepped away, or more like stumbled away.

He grabbed my arm to catch me. My eyes latched on to where his hand grasped. It felt like my skin was burning under his touch, and not in the amazing way that it usually burned, but in a way that left me wondering if I’d be scarred for life. Hell, he’d touched me everywhere in our time together—would all of my body be scarred?

At least my outside would match my inside.

Hudson leaned in to help me steady. He smelled it then, how could he not? “Have you been drinking?”

I pulled my arm away. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not. You just don’t usually drink. You’re full of all sorts of surprises this evening.”

“Ah. Surprises. It’s certainly a day for that.”