But what if today was the last time she ever saw Ram?
Was she really that naive? So stupid as to imagine they were done? That she could put last night in a box, wrap it up neatly
with a bow and that would be it.
Her pulse began to race.
Since breaking up with Connor she’d been so careful. She’d had a couple of short relationships, but at the first hint of anything serious she had broken them off. It had seemed safer, given her bad luck when it came to men. Or was it bad judgement?
Her father, Richard, had been charming—financially generous. But even before her parents’ divorce he had been unreliable—often disappearing without explanation, and always utterly incapable of remembering anything to do with his wife and daughter, from birthdays to parents’ evenings.
Then she’d met Connor—sweet, funny Connor—who had cared about everything from saving the planet to the trainers he wore. Miraculously, he had cared about her too, so she’d thought it would be different with him.
And it had been—for a time.
Until he’d betrayed her trust...shared the most private details of their life together over a pint in the pub. And then not even stepped up to defend her reputation.
She almost laughed, but felt more as if she was about to cry.
Her reputation.
It made her sound like some foolish eighteenth-century heroine who’d let the wrong man pick up her fan. But that was what she’d felt like. Foolish and powerless. And the fact that her supposed boyfriend had sacrificed her to impress his mates still had the power to make her curl up inside with misery.
Breathing out silently, she closed her eyes.
She’d vowed never again to trust her judgement. And with Ram she hadn’t needed to. Her opinion of him was irrelevant; the facts spoke for themselves.
Even before they’d met in that café in Sydney she’d known his reputation as a ruthless womaniser. Yet she’d still gone ahead and slept with him.
And why?
Because she’d become complacent.
She’d assumed, like last time, that the worst-case scenario would be the two of them having to work in the same building. Now, though, she could see that geography didn’t matter, and that the worst-case scenario was happening inside her head. And it was all to do with him, and how he’d made her feel.
But she couldn’t think about this anymore. Not with his body so warm and solid beside her.
Her breathing faltered.
It was time to leave.
Moving carefully, so as not to wake him, she slid out from beneath his arm and began groping in the darkness for her discarded bra and shoes. Her bag was harder to find, but finally she located it by one of the armchairs.
Clutching her blouse in one hand, she tiptoed to the door and gently pushed down the handle. There was a tiny but unmistakable click and she held her breath. But there was no sound from within the darkened office and slowly, carefully, she pulled open the door and slid through it into the empty corridor.
As she waited for the lift her heartbeat sounded like raindrops on a tin roof. Every second felt like a day, and she couldn’t shift the feeling that at any moment she would hear Ram’s voice or his footsteps in the darkness.
Pressing her forehead against the wall, she breathed out slowly. She should be feeling relief, and in some ways she was, for now she wouldn’t have to go through that horrific about-last-night conversation, or the alternative—the awkward let’s-pretend-it-never-happened version.
But she couldn’t help feeling that somehow she was making a mistake. That what had happened between them had been so rare, so right, that she shouldn’t just walk away from it.
She turned and gazed hesitantly down the darkened corridor.
Was she doing the right thing?
Or was she about to do something she’d regret?
But what would happen if she stayed?