Eden texted a little while later, and I heard the emotion through each word. My hand trembled as I read.

Eden: I need some air. Going for a walk. The agency said I had until tomorrow to leave before they sent someone to fetch me, so if that's okay...? I'll stay out of your hair, I promise.

"Stay out of my hair?" That rubbed me the wrong way.

She was never in my hair. Well, her fingers were, sometimes, when I was going down on her, burying my lips between her lips as she moaned her need for me—

Silver: Of course it's okay. Stay as long as you need.

What I didn't add was fuck your agency, because that was unnecessary. I couldn't show her my feelings, but deep down, she must have known.

Eden: Also, not sure if you can help with this, but I'm leaving on such short notice...is there anywhere I can stay? Hotel room or something? I lost my studio since I was living here, so...

I gritted my teeth. Of course the agency would rush her out and not assist with physically relocating her.

"Dicks," I said, shooting a quick text to Yanic to see what he'd be able to do. He was the genius with all the detailed stuff, so I figured he'd know how to get her apartment back. Or at least some place she could stay until she got a new contract through the agency.

Silver: No guarantees, but I'll see what I can do.

When the elevator dinged, signifying Eden was out of the penthouse, I hurried to my desk and dialed Mickey to update him.

"Her agency is breaking our contract," I said, the instant he picked up.

His irritated groan came through the receiver. "Makes sense, though it's easier to protect you both together. Not that I expected them to uphold her contract, but I thought we'd have more time. If you're separated so soon..."

"I'll add that to Yanic's problem list," I said, putting Mickey on speaker so I could message my second-in-command. I received a quick and vague response from him regarding Eden's living situation, stating he'd get back to me shortly. "He's working on getting her studio back for her."

I also added more groveling time on my list, because Yanic never did anything for free. More so in this scenario, where I'd hid the truth from him. His neutrality during the conference call was a sign of how livid he was, and he didn't want to scream at me in front of my team.

"Smart move," said Mickey, out of breath. like he was walking at a brisk pace. There were voices in the background, noises of the outdoors—cars, wind, movement. "In the end it's for the best."

I cringed, though he was right. If I wanted to salvage my reputation and protect Eden's, we needed to be apart, as far apart as possible, and fast.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt. To finally realize I could have feelings, care for someone, only for that someone to be taken away from me because of some stupid rules? It was more painful than I showed.

And I couldn't show anything. With Eden gone, I'd be freer to express myself without enticing her, without getting us both in trouble.

"Silver," said Mickey, a hint of caution in his voice. "It is for the best, right? You agree?"

I'd been candid with him many times in the past. He'd known of my lovers—for legal reasons—and he'd known all about Noah and what went wrong there. But Eden...I'd yet to truly confide in anyone about her, about what she did to me, how she broke through all my barriers.

"It is," I said, a lump growing in my throat. "The best course of action." For now, I nearly added, but held back.

"Good," said Mickey, and relief flowed from his words. "Better to let this blow over and allow another scandal take its place, so you can both lick your wounds and move on."

I didn't want to move on, but ultimately, that had to happen.

The scandal would blow over, but I doubted I'd fully recover.

Young and lovely as she was, Eden would find someone else.

I gulped. "Yeah," I said, my heart not in it. "Yeah, that makes sense."

We hung up, and I sat in the dark in my office for the rest of the day, mulling over the feelings I wasn't allowed to have.

***

It was like I hadn't left my office at all by the time the next day rolled around.

I still sat at my desk, scrolling through notifications of my demise, or how some admired me for my choices, encouraged me to sleep with whomever I wanted.

The feedback from the article...varied. To my surprise, not everyone hated me. Not everyone sided against me. I hadn't been blacklisted or canceled yet, and many waited for my response.

I was working on my apology speech as someone knocked on my open door.

"You know the policy," I said, not lifting my gaze from my laptop screen.

The visitor cleared their throat, prompting me to glance up and see Eden. I froze.

"Sorry," she said, hands clasped behind her back, her chin dipped. "Now that I'm leaving, I wasn't sure if that policy applied to me anymore."

My door will always be open to you, Eden. My door, my heart, my—

I shuffled through some paperwork on my desk to keep my hands busy. "Right. What's up?" I knew my voice betrayed me; it was too stoney, too strict, and she'd know I was trying to save face, to hide.

But she couldn't see through my facade, not today, not ever again. I had to put my best effort into this, or else...

I avoided eye-contact as she entered further into the room, almost timidly, as if it were her first time coming in. "I'll be leaving today," she said, her voice was so quiet, so unlike how I'd ever heard her. She was never outwardly confident, but never this shy, either.

"Right," I repeated, unsure where my vocabulary had gone. "Do you need help packing? I can get Gigi to assist."

"No, I, uh..." She balanced on the balls of her feet. "Were you able to figure anything out for me for...lodging purposes? I mean, I can call the agency, they should take care of it since they're the ones demanding that I evacuate—"

"Evacuate?" I snarled, breaking character. "Is that seriously what they said?"

She shrugged; she, too, kept her eyes averted from mine. "I wish I was exaggerating."

I picked up my phone, checking my most recent messages from Yanic. "My second-in-command was able to get your old studio back for you."

I couldn't not look at her flushed cheeks, her widening eyes, her overall demeanor relaxing at once. "Oh, gosh, thank you. Thank him for me." She clenched her jaw. "Thank your entire team."

I knew how hard that must have been for her to say, after overhearing them uttering such shitty words about her. "Will do. The keys will be waiting with a courier whenever you get to the place."

I wouldn't tell her what Yanic told me—all the hoops he'd had to jump through, the strings he'd had to pull to get her studio back. He'd had to portray me as an abuser to the landlord, going along with the article, to make it seem like Eden was fleeing me and needed safety.

And money, of course; he'd had to throw out a lot of it to convince that landlord that this was important, that we meant business. He'd had to pose as a friend of Eden's and feign having no connection with me.

Though he made it clear in no uncertain terms that these past few days, he didn't want to connect with me, his lying best friend who hadn't trusted him enough to ask for his help.

I hated how our friendship grew strained because of all this. Yes, I should have confided in him, but I was too scared. Too wrapped up in Eden to pull my head up above the surface and take a breath.

To face the consequences.

I detested bribery and blackmailing. Using my wealth—no matter how it was earned—for such purposes always made me feel dirty, but we had no choice. If I wanted to keep Eden safe...

"You'll also have a sort of security team with you, until you get a new job, that is. Might want to let the agency know about that, too," I said, my jaw clenched.

I doubted her agency cared at all.

They'd freed her from her contract for their own image. All they wanted was for her to no longer be associated with me, at any cost. Clearly, they gave no shits—they hadn't bothered to help her leave my place.

They'd left it all up to her and expected her to dash out and find somewhere to live and wait patiently for a new assignment. Assholes.

"So, I guess I'll finish packing, then." She swayed back and forth, as if hesitant to walk out without saying more. Words dangled from her tongue, threatening to spill from her mouth.

Words like goodbye, don't forget me, are you sure I have to go?

She must have thought them, wished to say them, because I did.

It hurt like hell, but this ending—bland and unfeeling while keeping those words to herself—was the only way for us both to come out of this unscathed.

Singed and slightly broken, but alive.

"I'm sorry, Eden," I said, unable to stop myself.

"Sorry?" She narrowed her green gaze on me, arms rigid at her sides.

"For...everything." For leading you on. "For this mess." And for not being able to get us out of it. "For being a predator."

She wrenched herself back, as if to pause before rushing to my side. "You're not a predator, Silver. You never were. You're..." She swallowed, and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "Well, you were lovely." She scoffed, a small smile over her lips. "Very lovely."

"You were lovely, too," I said, gripping the edge of the desk to prevent myself from standing up, from hurrying over to her, touching her. "But we can never see each other again, you're aware of that?"

She nodded so fast the outline of her face was blurry. "Yes."

"At least until further notice," I added, but winced. That was too hopeful. "Though I doubt it'd be wise to try again."

"Of course." She blinked a few times and turned to my window. The curtains were parted, for once, and a ray of sun basked over her face, illuminating her.

Fuck, why was this so hard? I'd dismissed plenty of people from my company, plenty of lovers from my room. Why was it so complicated with Eden? We'd had fun, she'd been delicious, she was—

She wasn't just any person, and she wasn't just a lover, was she?

"I didn't mean to imply anything," I said, remaining vague.

Her chin tilted up, and one gaze was all it took for me to see her soul. For me to know she'd understood; she'd gotten my message.

I didn't mean to imply I had feelings for you.

It was a lie, the biggest lie of all.

Because if I could, I'd lay the world at her feet. I'd pay her debt, I'd burn down the temp agency's offices, I'd defy her family, whoever they were and whatever the fuck they did for a living.

If I could, I'd grab her hand and set it on my waist, dance with her in this space slumped with materials and utensils and cut-outs of magazines and sketches of dresses that would never come to life.

I'd hold her forever.

But we weren't allowed, and at this rate, with all these complications, we never would be.

"Should we...sign a contract?" Her voice rattled as if something were stuck in her throat.

"A contract? For what?" I stiffened in my seat.

"To promise that we won't see each other again." She eyed me directly and my heart melted. My body melted. Everything melted inside and I had to preserve my hardened exterior to not show it.

She was right; a contract would have been smart. I should have gotten out a paper and jotted down a few sentences and made us both sign it.

But I couldn't bring myself to make it so official.

"I'll talk to my lawyer," I said, knowing full well I never would. I couldn't create something so binding, so restrictive, because what if somehow, we pushed through?

What if somehow, we found each other again at the end of all this?

"Sure," she said with a curt nod, "and they can forward me the document to sign. Good idea. Keeps us even more separate." Her voice choked as she spoke, and she turned away—but it was too late.

I saw her tears. I caught her lower lip puffed out and the trembling of her arms, her legs. It didn't take much to understand how she was holding in her true thoughts, gulping down her sorrow for me.

If she broke, I'd break, too.

We couldn't break.

"So that's settled, then," I said, clasping my hands atop my desk. They shook, so I tightened them, tightened my jaw, tightened my core to block it all from spilling out.

"Okay." Her weakened tone grew even smaller as she headed towards the door, her back still to me.

"And I'll make sure Pete is ready to go when you are," I said, louder, worried she wouldn't hear me over the onrush of tears clogging her eyes, the likely ringing in her ears. Over the sniffling, her attempts to conceal her pain.

"T-thanks," she said, somehow keeping her back straightened and her head held high. But she was crying, more and more the closer she got to the door.

"And Gigi," I said, digging my nails into my desk, barring myself from running after her. "She can help, too. She'll be available if needed."

"O-okay," was the last thing Eden said before disappearing out of the room.

Did she hear the thud of my head against the desk as I let it all go? As I let myself fall forward and allowed the agony to take me full force, to engulf me?

To watch her walk away, in tears, no less, was an image that'd forever haunt me. To not be able to show an ounce of affection, to not beg her to stay, had my heart shattering into pieces.

Not being permitted to hug her, kiss her, love her, was torture.

Was this how it had to be? My career or my heart? My life or hers? Was there no way for us both to be happy and together?

I never should have hired her. I'd have managed without; I'd have found another assistant easily.

When I saw her at the elevator, what felt like forever ago, I should have ordered her back inside of it. Away from me. Away from the risk.

I should have known. Her tears today, her pain, was all my fault.

It'd have been better if I'd never let it get this far, never opened my heart, my body, anything.

Goodbye, Eden. I hadn't had the guts to say it out loud, but I said it once she was gone. Too little, too late.