Page 173 of Sin
I push a fork around the edge of my napkin. “Sex Activity Pro increased the offer.”
His brows lift. “By a lot?”
“By a deeply disrespectful amount.”
He whistles low. “Damn.”
“Exactly.”
“You deserve it.”
It’s annoying how quickly those words can still hurt. Not because they’re cruel. Because they’re kind.
“I don’t know what I deserve anymore.”
Tate’s expression softens. “Laurel.”
“No, I know. I’m not asking you to give me a motivational speech. I’m just saying, it’s weird. A month ago, I knew exactly who I was at SINsual Adult Toys. I knew what I built. I knew what I wanted next.” I let out a small laugh. “Now I have a lawyer, a secure building, and a comment section full of people who think I personally invented adultery.”
His mouth tightens. “Those people don’t know you.”
“Yeah, well, that has not stopped them from forming some very vivid opinions.”
“They’re wrong.”
“Some of them aren’t.”
He doesn’t argue immediately. That might be why I don’t get defensive.
“I made choices,” I say quietly. “I knew he was married. I knew it was wrong. I can dress it up however I want. Dead marriage. Complicated history. Mutual feelings. But I knew.”
Tate sits forward, lowering his voice. “You’re allowed to take responsibility without accepting every cruel thing people say about you.”
My throat tightens. I hate when Sinclairs make sense.
“I know,” I whisper.
“Do you?”
“No, but I’m pretending, and that’s a start.”
His smile is sad. “Fair.”
The server comes by to take our orders, saving me from emotions, which is exactly what servers should be tipped extra for. We order salads because, and once she leaves, Tate folds his hands on the table.
“Have you thought about talking to Sin?”
My body reacts before I can stop it. A small breath. A tightness in my chest. A stupid, immediate ache.
I look down at my water glass. “That might help.”
“It might.”
“It might also make everything worse.”
“That’s also possible.”
“Stop being balanced. I hate it.”
