He Opened the Door, I Walked Out Chapter 10

He Opened the Door, I Walked Out Chapter 10

The sterling silver cufflinks felt cool against my palm as I turned them over, examining the intricate monogram etched into their surface. J.S. Julian Sterling. They’d been sitting on my nightstand for three days, a tangible reminder of our last encounter at the hotel.

I could have mailed them back. Could have left them with the hotel concierge. Could have pretended I’d never found them among the tangled sheets of our passionate night together.

Instead, I was standing in the marble lobby of Sterling & Associates, my heart hammering against my ribs as I clutched a manila folder that contained nothing more important than old grocery receipts. The cufflinks were safely tucked inside my purse, my real reason for being here.

The receptionist, a polished young woman with perfectly styled blonde hair, looked up from her computer with a practiced smile. “Good afternoon. How may I help you?”

“I need to deliver some documents to Mr. Sterling’s office,” I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. “They’re time- sensitive.”

Her smile faltered slightly. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Sterling doesn’t typically accept walk-in deliveries. If you’d like to leave the documents with me, I can ensure he receives them.”

“I’m afraid I need to deliver them personally,” I insisted, leaning forward slightly. “It’s regarding the quarterly projections. He’s expecting them.”

The magic words. I’d heard Richard mention them enough times to know they carried weight in this building. The receptionist’s expression shifted to one of concern.

“Of course. Let me call up to his office.” She picked up the phone, speaking in hushed tones before hanging up. “His assistant will be down to escort you up in just a moment.”

I nodded, my palms growing damp as I waited. What was I doing? This was reckless, dangerous, completely insane. But the memory of Julian’s hands on my skin, the way he’d looked at me like I was the only woman in the world, pulled me forward like gravity.

The elevator ride to the twentieth floor felt eternal. Julian’s assistant, a crisp woman in her forties, made polite small talk about the weather while I fought to keep my breathing steady. When the doors opened, I was greeted by a hallway lined with floor-to-ceiling windows and expensive artwork.

“Mr. Sterling’s office is just down the hall,” the assistant said, gesturing toward a set of imposing double doors at the end of the

corridor.

As we walked, I caught sight of a familiar figure emerging from one of the side offices. My blood turned to ice.

Richard.

He was carrying a stack of papers, his tie slightly askew, looking harried and stressed. When he spotted me, his entire face transformed. Relief, hope, and desperate gratitude flooded his features.

“Honey!” he called out, his voice echoing in the hallway as he hurried toward me with open arms. “I knew you’d come around. I knew you wouldn’t give up on us.”

Every instinct screamed at me to stop, to turn around, to acknowledge my husband and end this madness before it went any further. But something deeper, something darker, kept my feet moving forward.

I looked right through him.

Not a glance, not a nod, not even the slightest acknowledgment that I’d heard him speak my name. I kept walking, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor with mechanical precision.

“Elaine?” Richard’s voice cracked with confusion and hurt. “Elaine, what are you doing here?”

I could feel his eyes boring into my back, could sense his bewilderment and growing panic as I continued down the hallway without breaking stride. The assistant beside me glanced between us with obvious discomfort, but said nothing.

When we reached the double doors, I turned to face Julian’s assistant with a smile that felt like it belonged to someone else entirely. “Thank you for escorting me up.”

“Of course. Mr. Sterling is expecting you.”

Behind us, I could hear Richard’s footsteps, his voice calling my name with increasing desperation. “Elaine, please. What’s going on? Talk to me!”

I raised my hand and knocked on Julian’s door.

“Come in,” came the familiar voice from inside, rich and commanding even through the heavy wood.

As I reached for the door handle, Richard’s hand caught my arm. “Elaine, you can’t just ignore me. I’m your husband!”

I turned to look at him then, really look at him. His face was flushed with exertion and emotion, his eyes wide with confusion and hurt. This was the man I’d spent twenty years with, the man whose children I’d raised, whose dreams I’d supported, whose betrayals I’d endured.

And I felt nothing.

“Let go of me,” I said quietly, my voice carrying a coldness that made him flinch.

“But I don’t understand. Why are you here? Who are you seeing?”

I pulled my arm free from his grasp and smoothed down my blouse. “That’s none of your business anymore, Richard. Remember? Open

marriage. No questions asked.”

The color drained from his face as the implications hit him. “You’re not… you can’t be…”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned the door handle and stepped into Julian’s office, closing the door firmly behind me.

The office was everything I’d expected and more. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Rich mahogany furniture gleamed under soft lighting. And behind a massive desk sat Julian Sterling, looking every inch the powerful executive in his perfectly tailored suit.

When he saw me, his face lit up with genuine surprise and pleasure. “Elaine. This is unexpected.”

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” I said, my voice steadier now that I was away from Richard’s desperate pleading. “I found something of yours.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out the cufflinks, holding them up so they caught the light streaming through the windows Julian’s eyes widened with recognition and something else-something that looked dangerously like affection.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for those,” he said, standing and moving around his desk toward me. “How did you-” He stopped, his

expression shifting as understanding dawned. “You were at the hotel.”

“I stayed the night,” I admitted, my cheeks warming at the memory. “I found them this morning.”

He was close enough now that I could smell his cologne, could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. “You could have called. Or had them sent over.”

“I could have,” I agreed, holding his gaze. “But I wanted to see you.”

The admission hung between us like a challenge. Behind the closed door, I could hear Richard’s voice, muffled but persistent, probably trying to explain to Julian’s assistant why his wife was in the chairman’s office.

Julian’s hand covered mine as he took the cufflinks, his fingers warm and familiar. “I’m glad you came,” he said softly. “Though I have to ask-was that your husband in the hallway?”

I met his eyes without flinching. “Yes.”

“And he doesn’t know?”

“No.” I paused, then added with a small smile, “But I think he’s starting to suspect.”