Chapter 49

"Knock, knock," I hear Derek call from the door, and I look up to see him standing there with a small grin.

"Hey," I reply, gesturing for him to come in.

He holds out a cup of what looks to be coffee. I raise a brow. "Thought you might need some caffeine."

Setting the cup on the table, I stick out my bottom lip in a fake pout. "Thank you." How sweet is that?

"I also have an update on the Max case?" He sits in the chair across from me.

"Nice and foreboding." I take that as my cue to lean back and listen.

"We‘re going to be fighting back against their defamation claims." It’s a simple sentence, really, but it’s not exactly one I want to hear.

"Fuck."

"My sentiments exactly," he responds. "Max believed that firing Mr. Marcy would be the end of things. But even knowing I saw everything, you were attacked, and that there’s footage of the bastard coming in and out of the building, they still want to claim we’re going after them."

"We sort of are now," I counter.

He shakes his head at me. "I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face, Esme. You don’t deserve any of what has happened to you, especially under my department."

My heart lurches with my stomach, making me feel nauseous. "I’m not so sure all of this is a good idea now."

"Why not?"

I sigh. "What happens if we lose? The settlement must be disgustingly high, right?"

"Esme," he starts, leaning forward as he lays his arms on his legs and stares more intensely. "You’re not a number on the page. You’re a person."

"But they’re going to say I’m making this up for no reason."

"Do you know how difficult it is to prove defamation? Especially with no evidence that has been written? We’ve mainly discussed everything to do with Max in person, and therefore, there’s no reason to believe we’re setting up the company to look bad."

"I wouldn’t want that to begin with!" I argue. "I love this job. And if you hadn’t caught that pervert, then he wouldhave hurt me." I want to cry at the stupidity of it all.

"I’m not letting these vultures get away with accusing us of lies and defamation. The only thing that matters right now is that you are prioritized in this entire case."

I bite my bottom lip, still forcing myself to hold back tears. "Would you have believed me if you didn’t see anything?" I ask quietly.

"I have no reason to believe you would lie about something so heinous. Especially after you told me about your past. I have a hard time believing someone could just get away with lying about something so disgusting as this."

"Victims lie all the time," I say without thinking.

His dark eyes search my face. "So do men and women who abuse others."

I don’t have anything more to say. Instead, I just look at my boss, seemingly looking for more that he’s not telling me. Maybe it’s not about Max, but he’s definitely thinking about telling me something else.

It’s in that moment, however, that the now-familiar wave of nausea I’ve grown accustomed to hits me like an ocean wave.

Jumping up quickly, I apologize and say I’ll be right back.

My flats carry me to the bathroom, and I’m going so fast I almost wonder if I’m running down the hall. But once I make it into the bathroom and lock the door behind me, I lose it in the toilet.

While waiting for another wave of sickness, I lean my head against the metal backing of the toilet. Sweat begins to creep down my neck into my shirt, and my forehead begins to feel just as warm.

I look forward to the day morning sickness isn’t part of my everyday routine. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to handle every morning collapsed on the floor and feeling woozy, clammy, and disgusting.

Once I know nothing else is going to happen, I get myself up, clean up, wash my hands and exit the bathroom.

However, as soon as I’m out the door, I immediately bump right into Derek looking panicked.

"Did you"¦did you follow me to the bathroom?" I stammer out, not quite sure what else to say to my boss.

"When you run out of your office to the bathroom and disappear for ten minutes, then it makes sense that I’m going to worry about my employee."

"What?" I feel so confused after the whole bathroom episode. I’m still sweaty and very much clammy, and all I want to do is curl up in a ball and take a quick nap to recharge.

"Are you okay, Esme?"

"Yes."

"Are you actually okay?"

"I must have eaten something that didn’t sit right."

He’s not an idiot. I mean he fathered two kids. His wife would have dealt with similar mornings such as this.

It’s not like he won’t put the pieces together. I can already see the gears turning in his brain, so I have to change the subject in some way.

"Esme"

"No, really, I’m okay."

"That’s not what I was going to say."

My head tilts to the side.

"I’m going to ask you this again: do you trust me?"

Now I’m utterly lost. "I think we’ve established that I do on multiple occasions," I say slowly.

"This isn’t about your past, though."

"Okay"¦" I squint my eyes. "Then what is it about?"

He sighs, bringing his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose. As if needing another minute to decide how to tell me, he rubs his nose in the now silent hallway.

What is he clearly so nervous to tell me?

"I need to tell you something before we continue working together on this project."

My heart squeezes in my chest, my stomach threatening to detonate in two seconds. God, this can’t be good.

Does he know I’m pregnant? Or what about if he knows the way my heart has been fighting me everything to do with us?

Or even worse, is he going to fire me for something that came up in my past?

I hold my breath so tight, hoping he’ll finally speak and tell me the truth. I can’t take the anticipation of the unknown.

Derek reaches up and scratches the back of his head. His hair moves slightly, but I mostly just see the nerves. "I may have started to dig into the pasts of some people. Ryan, Melinda and even Daniel."

This raises more questions than it answers. "Wait, why?"

"To make sure things don’t go wrong?" He answers though he speaks as if it’s a question instead.

"For my divorce? Or for the defamation lawsuit?" I’m feeling increased anxiety as he continues to speak vaguely.

"Mostly for your divorce."

"But why are you looking into Daniel?" That’s the only part I still don’t get. "He’s my lawyer."

"I’ve been doing this work for over a decade. I just want to guarantee this guy is clearly doing whatever he legally can to help you win your case."

I nod. "I know he is. Not a doubt in my mind."

The truth is, I’m terrified of what Derek might find. Not only looking into my husband’s seedy past with things I definitely don’t know about him but also that there might be some elaborate setup with Daniel all along.

"That was" I appreciate you wanting to keep me safe." Our eyes meet and lock as Ithe words flow from me. "It’s nice to know in this world of selfish assholes, you genuinely care about my wellbeing."

He shrugs, but the smile on his lips is coy. "I think we’re stuck with one another at this point. There are just some things you bond over."

"You mean besides the traumatic shit?"

Derek snorts. "Yes, besides the traumatic shit."

And as we stare longer at one another, I wonder if I’m insane. I wonder if my heart and mind have gotten it all wrong. I believed that there was nothing to do if my feelings continued to grow for Derek.

But now? Now I wonder again. Is there more than a silver of a chance? Is there a world where Derek Anderson and I could be?