Tristan’s hair was disheveled, his face flushed—undeniable signs of what had just occurred.
The moment he saw Nicole, he panicked.
“Where did you go? I couldn’t find you, and I was so worried!”
“Worried about me?”
Nicole’s gaze landed on the love marks on his neck. With a cold laugh, she said, “Worried about what? That I might wander off and see something I shouldn’t?”
Tristan’s expression shifted instantly. He quickly shook his head. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing for you to see. I just finished a meeting, and I’m exhausted. Let’s go back to bed.”
“Weren’t you in the mood for intimacy earlier? Let’s go to your office.”
Nicole grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the office.
Tristan froze, fear flashing across his face.
“No, not tonight. I’m exhausted. If you want, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, okay? I’m really too tired today.”
Tristan was still pretending.
Nicole’s hand twitched, itching to slap him across the face.
But in the end, the slap never landed. She forced herself to swallow the searing pain in her heart and nodded stiffly.
“Fine. Let’s go back.”
It didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered to her now.
