I kept my expression cold, trying to shove the phone away. But his hand slipped, the screen flipped briefly, and in that flash, I saw it—an intimate selfie of him and Claire cheek to cheek.
I grabbed his wrist. He panicked, let go, and the phone crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.
Everyone in the office looked over, but no one dared to speak.
Ethan froze, his lips trembling.
“Ms. Bennett, that phone… it had my mom’s last voice messages to me. She’s gone… that was all I had left of her…”
“What do I do? What do I do now?”
Claire’s heart ached; she pulled him into her arms, whispering comfort.
My fists tightened as that image of their smiling faces seared into my mind.
Claire had a phobia of cameras. She never took photos with me—not even wedding pictures. Yet with another man, she had dozens of intimate selfies.
I swallowed the rage threatening to explode. I turned to leave.
But Claire blocked me.
“You break his phone and think you can just walk away?”
“Didn’t you hear? Those were his mother’s last words to him!”
“Adrian, at least say you’re sorry, even if you don’t mean it.”
The softness in Claire’s eyes vanished, replaced only with disdain.
“Apologize? To him?”