He stopped and looked at them. “My name is Mr. Hamilton.”

“How do you feel about potentially sending your former partner and best friend away to prison?”

“He’s sending himself to prison,” he answered.

“Do you have any intentions of reconnecting with him while he’s behind bars?”

He ignored that question with a blank stare.

“Your name was cleared years ago and yet you still left New York,” someone else asked. “Now that everything is in the open for good, any chance that you’ll come back and re-open your firm?”

“I’m about to spend my last hour in this city on the way to the airport,” he said, pulling shades over his eyes.

The throng of reporters followed him out of the courtroom, and he slipped inside the car without a second glance.

Sighing, I pulled out my phone and re-read the messages he’d sent me this morning, somewhat regretting that I didn’t respond.

Subject: NYC.

I would like to see you one last time before I leave. Can I pick you up for breakfast?

PS—I really was going to tell you everything that night...

—Andrew

Subject: Your Pussy.

This message is actually not about your pussy. (Although, since I’m on the subject, it is number one on my list of favorite things.)

Come to breakfast with me. I’m outside your door.

—Andrew

As I was rereading that email, a new one popped onto my screen:

Subject: Goodbye.

—Andrew

I knew my lack of response was immature, that it was my fault that I didn’t get to see him before he left, but I felt as if he could’ve made more of an effort. And I still felt that he was wrong for not being open with me when he should have.

Leaving the courthouse, I headed home and thought about all the half-truths and lies that had swirled our relationship. Alyssa. His wife. My real name. His real name.

Everything we had was built on lies...

Letting tears roll down my face, I opened the door to my house, prepared to shower until I couldn’t cry anymore, but Andrew was standing in my living room.

“Hello, Aubrey.” He glared at me.

“Breaking and entering is a crime.” I crossed my arms. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

He said nothing, just continued glaring at me—looking me up and down.

“Don’t you have a flight to catch?” My voice cracked. “Shouldn’t you be spending your last hour in New York on the way to the airport?”

“I realized I still have something to say to you.”

“Do you have another fake name you want to tell me about? Another secret identity that you want to—”

“Stop.” He stepped closer and closer until I backed into a wall, and he looked directly into my eyes. “I need you to listen to me, Aubrey. Just fucking listen...”

I tried to move away from him, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. Then he used his hips to keep me still.

“You’re going to stand here and listen to me for the next five minutes whether you like it or not.” The words came out rushed, heated. “Since you suddenly care about knowing the truth, I’ll tell you the fucking truth...”

I tried to say something, but he leaned down and bit my lips. Hard.

“I liked you when you were Alyssa and I was Thoreau—when we spent nights talking about your ridiculous homework and my law firm... I even liked you after you fucking lied to me and I saw you at your interview—I liked you...” He tightened his grip around my wrists. “And even though I knew I shouldn’t have chased you down and showed up to your apartment that day, I did, and I fucked you...After that, I really liked you.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Dead ass serious.” He glared at me and bit my lips again, silently commanding me to keep quiet. “I didn’t want to like you, Aubrey. I wasn’t supposed to, and I didn’t need to, but every day after that you were all I could think about. You and your smartass mouth, and how your lies maybe weren’t so bad after all.”

“What about your lies? Do you still think that you’re above morality? That—”

“Stop talking.” He choked out. “Let me finish.”

I swallowed and he stared at me a few seconds before continuing.

“Yes, I hid the fact that I was married from you, and although it was unintentional, it was still a lie.”

“A huge lie.”

“Aubrey...” He gripped me tighter. “I hadn’t thought about Ava in a very long time...On the contrary, I’ve been thinking about you every day since you left.”

“No, you haven’t...”

“I have.” He looked directly into my eyes. “I drove to your ballet class twice a week, trying to see you, trying to talk to you and apologize...I sent things to your apartment. I even showed up twice, but that was before I knew you’d moved.”

“You’re just saying all this so you can fuck me...” I shook my head and turned away, but he made me face him again.

“I’m saying all of this because I love you...”

I gasped and tears formed in my eyes.

“I fucking love you, Aubrey...” he repeated, wiping my face. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to show you that.” He brushed his lips against mine. “Do you still love me?”

“No, I don’t... Not any—” I felt his lips against mine, silencing me.

I didn’t want to kiss him back, I wanted to push him away and tell him to leave, but I parted my lips and let his tongue slip inside of my mouth.

Slowly, he freed my hands from his grip and locked his arms around my waist—keeping his lips attached to mine. He didn’t give me a chance to talk, to breathe. He just kissed me senseless until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“If you can honestly say that you don’t love me,” he whispered, slowly pulling away from me, “then I’ll leave you alone.”

“And if I can’t?” I asked, breathless.

“If you can’t, you’re going to show me to your room so you and I can become reacquainted.”

“Reacquainted?” I moaned as he cupped my ass. “Is that code for conversation?”

“It’s code for fucking.”

“Would it kill you to say make love just once?”

“Depends on if you actually love me or not.”

Silence.

His fingers were now trailing the zipper on the back of my skirt, gently pulling on it as I looked into his eyes.

“I hate you,” I said, making him raise his eyebrow. “If you said all of those things just to get my hopes up, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You still haven’t...” He kissed me gently. “I meant every word I said.” He pulled my zipper down. “And I really need to know whether or not you still love me because...” He stopped talking.

My skirt fell into a puddle on the floor and he tugged my thong away from my waist until it snapped.

“Aubrey, tell me...Tell me right now.”

I gasped as he slipped a finger inside of me, as he groaned at how wet I was.

“Yes...”