Lex hesitated, clearly torn between refusal and compliance. After a moment, his expression softened into one of indulgent helplessness. Cupping Phoebe’s face in his hands, he kissed her—starting with her eyes, trailing down to her nose and finally landing tenderly on her lips, the gesture both intimate and deliberate.
Tears burned down my cheeks as I watched from the shadows. The pain that I thought had dulled long ago stabbed at my heart anew. So this was what he meant when he claimed Phoebe was “just a physical outlet.” Lex had lied to me, lied to himself and buried himself in that delusion.
How could he not see that love and physical connection are inseparable? His body, his heart—everything about him was irredeemably tainted.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself to retreat quietly back to the bedroom. My phone buzzed on the nightstand and the sight of a new message sent a chill through my veins.
Phoebe: [Miss Copeland, did you know that during the days you were unconscious, Mr. Blackburn and I were cuddling and kissing right beside your bed every day?