"You're right. My relationship with Francine has long since gone beyond the professional."
My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms, but I felt no pain.
Then, Evan spoke flippantly, "Our first intimate contact was in the company's break room. That day, she was drunk and kissed me first."
His tone was smug, as if he were bragging about some great victory.
"Francine knows exactly what she wants. I admit that I couldn't resist the temptation. Later, we were at hotels, in the car, even on your family's sofa. She's far more passionate and open than you think."
Each word felt like a knife, stabbing deep into my chest.
I thought I had moved on, but hearing these vivid details, my rage consumed every bit of reason I had left.
"Shut up!"
I lunged forward, grabbing his collar.
Evan didn't resist. Instead, he smiled that damn victorious smile.
He leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper, just loud enough for me to hear.
"What's wrong? Can't take it?"