But Cedric didn't seem convinced. He grabbed my arm, his grip tightening as he glared at me. "You heard it! It's just work! Are you really going to be jealous over this? Anya and I are just colleagues—stop assuming the worst!"
I almost let out a laugh. Just colleagues? He really had the nerve to say that with a straight face!
I shook off his hand, keeping my voice steady. "I'm not jealous, Cedric. She did what she was supposed to do, and you heard me, I'm cool with it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got plans."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away. I wasn't lying—I really did have plans—dinner with a divorce lawyer who had a good reputation for handling messy cases. We were meeting at the Italian restaurant downstairs.
By the time I got there, the lawyer was already seated, waiting for me. We went over the details, and as we talked, I glanced out the window. There they were—Cedric and Anya, walking out of the office together. He opened the passenger door for her and even reached out to shield her head as she got in. Then, they drove away.