“Why is that?” I swipe a donut for myself, taking a bite before I prop a hip on the desk, glancing down at his large monitor.

“Because it would appear our bachelor was very busy last night.”

He clicks play, and I stop chewing.

The donut turns to sawdust in my mouth. My stomach drops hard and fast. The sick lurching takes over every synapse as I watch Evelyn’s silhouetted figure creeping up the front steps of Emmett’s cottage.

“Emmett, it’s me,” she murmurs.

I expect her advances to prove fruitless, but the front door swings open, and a darkened male figure fills the entryway.

I swallow but the donut lodges in my throat, making me feel like I’m choking.

It’s too dark to pick up any detail on the grainy security cameras, but the microphones picked up everything.

“Thank god you’re here,” Emmett responds.

My entire body feels like it’s on fire and my temples throb with betrayal.

“I told you I’d be able to sneak off.”

“Good girl. I’ve been dreaming of this,” Emmett says, low and full of lust.

I swallow again, but the donut is still stuck in my throat, and tears spring to my eyes.

I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience.

He breaks hearts.

He gets around.

He’s just not a one-woman guy.

“Get your ass in here. I can’t wait any longer,” he rumbles before pulling her into the shadows. It’s hard to make out much unless it’s highlighted by the exterior lights. I see hands and hair as he fists her chocolate tresses and tips her head back for a kiss.

From there, they stumble back into the house and shut the door. What follows is a series of thumps, moans, and grunts.

Muffled exclamations follow over several minutes.

“Yes, Emmett!”

“Please, Emmett!”

“More, Emmett!”

I feel like I’m going to throw up the bite of donut that I just forced down. This is exactly what my brother warned me about less than twelve hours ago.

“Fucking perfect, right?” Ben says, eyes shining with pride.

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to sound out of breath even though my lungs are seizing in my chest and I’m finding it hard to breathe. “So great.”

I swallow as nausea builds.

He breaks hearts.

He gets around.

He’s just not a one-woman guy.

“I’ll be right back,” I say weakly, swallowing my saliva quickly over and over again, attempting to calm my stomach.

I hustle out of the trailer, clamping my lips together as a stray tear slips down my cheek. It’s hot enough out that the saltwater dries against my skin almost instantly. But seconds later, it’s replaced by another.

When I get behind one of the farthest trailers in the field, I press a hand against the metal wall, bend over, and empty my stomach into the grass.

My body shakes as I stare down at the remnants of my breakfast and get my bearings.

I feel dizzy and entirely unlike myself. Without thinking, I pull out my cell phone and fire off a text to Emmett. My trembling thumbs type out the only thing running through my head right now.

How could you?

I send it and watch as it shows up delivered. It’s a text message I never thought I’d have to send him. I feel disconnected from my body, my limbs numb.

I don’t even know what to do with myself. Everything feels watery and pointless.

There’s no way I can head back into the production trailer, and I have to wonder if I’m even fit to finish out the final week of work. I walked onto the set feeling so fucking positive about where this was all going.

It never once crossed my mind that Emmett would betray me like this. Theo has always warned me about him, but all I’ve learned over the past couple of months is that Theo was wrong.

But what if he wasn’t?

I feel duped in the worst way, and that’s what has me reeling.

I knew his reputation, but with us… it felt different. I know it was. Or maybe I only wanted to believe that.

Until now, he’s been nothing but honorable. This doesn’t fit. At all.

The strangest part? He’s been nothing but repulsed by Evelyn and her behavior. Hell, he called her Evilyn.

So why would he do this after the day we spent together?

None of it makes sense. It doesn’t add up. I can’t reconcile it.

And the more time I spend with a hand propped against the trailer, replaying every moment we’ve shared over the past months, the more I feel like this can’t possibly be true.

Maybe it’s cognitive dissonance. Maybe it’s the only way I can function through having my heart crushed like this—the devastation of what I saw. The lingering possibility that it actually happened.

“What the fuck?” I mutter, raising a hand to press at my temple.

“Julia?” Parker’s voice is full of concern, and when I turn to face her, so is her expression.

She drops her gaze to my vomit in the grass, then her eyes travel their way back up with that shrewd appraisal she’s so good at. There’s something incredibly bright about Parker. She’s emotionally intelligent, if not terribly outgoing, which is why it makes sense that she steps closer and holds her hand out.

“I would ask you if you’re okay, but you’re clearly not.”

I offer her a wobbly smile and stare at her hand. She tips her head and adds, “Come on, let’s go. I’ve got the perfect place for us right now.”

Not knowing what else to do with myself, I take her hand and follow.

“Here, have some of this.” She shoves a bottle of amber liquor toward me.

“Parker, I can’t have any of that.”

“Why not?” She furrows her brows, baffled that I wouldn’t want bourbon on an empty stomach at nine thirty in the morning while hiding out in her oma and opa’s dingy crawl space.

“Oh shit, are you pregnant?” Parker blurts, her eyes wide.

“No, I’m not pregnant, it’s just—”

She cuts me off by pressing the bottle against my chest. “Then, unfortunately for you, this is a rite of passage. It’s part of being a Brandt. When shit goes bad, we drink in the crawl space.”

When shit goes bad?

Shit is really, really bad.

“If it’s any consolation, in one of my less fine moments I lost my temper and told my political science professor that he has the personality of a pebble this morning.”

“Oof. How did that go over?”

“Well, I doubt it helped my case. And I’m going to be stuck taking a class with him in the fall again, soooo… I’m going to drink, whether you do or not.”

Parker looks as distraught as I feel.

“You know what?” I eye the bottle, then rip the top off. “Yeah.”

I lift it to my lips and take a long swig. Fire shoots down my throat, burns my stomach, and then it spreads a slow warmth through me in a way that I need right now.

“I’m not a Brandt, though.”

Parker scoffs like I’ve just announced I believe in unicorns. “Not yet. But I see things. I know things.”

“No, I’m serious.” I take another swig. The liquid sloshing against the glass only makes me feel more pathetic. “There’s footage of him inviting Evelyn into his cottage last night.”

Parker barks out a laugh, reaching for the bourbon and taking a swig of her own. She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth with a light hiss. “Fuck, it really is early. Just remember that I’m only doing this because I like you, Julia.” She points at me. “But not as much as my brother likes you. And that’s saying something. Because for the most part, Emmett doesn’t allow himself to like anyone.”

I send her a look that says you’re making shit up just to comfort me.

“I’m serious. When our parents died, it was like his world fell apart around him. In that moment, he turned in a circle and decided that only the people he could see would make the cut. Then the walls went up.”