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Hethoughthe’d smoothed things over, but when he’d tried to close the deal, they insisted they still had to speak with one more company, for comparison’s sake.Heworried that it was a brush off.Whenthey left, the bride was smiling, so that was a good sign.Shepromised to let him know by the end of the week.
Afterthe lift doors closed behind them,Krishleaned his hand onto the wall and let his head sag.Whatthe hell had that been about?
Hehiccuped.Great, just what he needed.
Francescawas still hiding in the editing room.Krishstared at the door.Hehad no idea what he’d find in there—a raging beast?Brokencomputer screens?Francesca, stuck to the ceiling, like inTheExorcist?
She’dprobably just caused him to lose his first lead.Sinceshe fell back into his life, he’d done nothing but try to help her.Whyhad she done this?Andwhat had been up with that mug?Hisanger flared, followed by another hiccup.
Runninghis hands through his hair and pushing up his sleeves, he took a deep breath before throwing open the door, ready to have it out with her.
Andwas met with tears.Theshock of it was enough to make his hiccups disappear.
Francescasat at her desk, trying to stifle the noise of her sobs by shoving a fist up against her mouth.Theeffort had turned her face red.Hershoulders shook.Blackstreaks crawled down her cheeks.
Hethought she’d been acting when she started crying in front of the client, but it had been real.Hisanger melted away, replaced by guilt, his heart clenching as he thought about her crying alone in here for the last fifteen minutes.
Withouthesitating, he covered the distance between them in two strong steps and pulled her into his arms. ‘Chezzy,’ he said, using his old nickname for her.Hehad never seen her cry like this.Noteven when they’d watchedBeachestogether.Noteven the night they’d broken up.FuckingNorman.
Sheburied her head into his chest and bunched his white shirt in her fists.Herubbed his hand over her back and made shushing noises.Francescawas in full sob mode. ‘I’ms-so so-ho-ho-rry,’ she croaked, her voice rough with tears.
‘It’sokay.IthinkIgot things back on track.’
‘Ofc-c-course you did.’
Hethought he heard a hint of a smile in her tone.Hepulled back to look at her face and noticed the black streaks had transferred to his shirt.
Francescasaw it, too. ‘Sorry!’ she wailed and then starting sobbing again.Shedug her head back into his chest, and he stroked her hair, remembering the way he used to curl it around his finger when they were in bed and then let it go, watching it become instantly straight again.Henever did that withJess, despite her long blonde hair.Hewondered why.Probablybecause she already had curls.
Theystood like that for a few minutes, letting her get it all out while he rocked her gently in his arms.Eventually, she stopped trembling and got her crying under control.Hewent to pull back to look at her face again, but she tugged at his shirt and said, ‘No!Ihave to tell you something, andIwon’t be able to do it if you’re looking at me.’
Thatsounded ominous.Helet his hand continue to stroke her back.Itfelt so natural. ‘Okay,I’mlistening,’ he said.
‘Abouttoday.Iknow you probably won’t believe me, but it wasn’t my fault.Iget really badPMS.Imean,really reallybad.’
Krishhad grown up with a mother and sister.Hedidn’t remember his even-keeled mother ever having fluctuating moods, butAnkitadid get tetchy once a month.Correction: she gotmoretetchy than normal.Butwhat he witnessed today?Itwas a whole new level.
Siftingthrough his memories of five years ago, he tried to recall if he’d ever seen her act like this, but came up with nothing. ‘Whenwe were together…?’
‘Ijustdidn’t see youwhenIhadPMS.Ih-hid it from you.’
Hesupposed that wouldn’t be too hard to do.Hehad vague memories of her cancelling a few dates due to work commitments. ‘Idon’t mean to pry, but have you seen a doctor?’
Shesnorted and then sniffed. ‘Several.’
‘Andthere’s nothing they can do?’
‘Triedanti-depressants but they didn’t agree with me.Mademy insomnia worse.NowIjust try to eat healthy, do my exercise, and ride it out.’
‘Hmm.How’sthat working for you?’
Shebarked a laugh.
Tuckingsome hair behind her ear, he said, ‘Well, there has to be something we can do to fix it.Youcan’t live like this.’
Shesniffled again. ‘Thisis my life,Krish.AndIcan’t be fixed.’
Thesadness in her voice broke his heart.Krishwas at a loss for words.Whata horrible thing to have to deal with, like having a traitor inside controlling her moods.Allhe could do was hug her tighter.Shehad relaxed her grip on his shirt, and now her hands rested on his hips.Hecontinued to run his hand over her hair, his thumb stroking her temple.Theirbodies swayed gently together, like they were doing a slow dance.
