Chapter 13 The Interview Leak

Chapter 13 The Interview Leak
Nora’s POV

The rooftop door closed behind us with a metallic thud that echoed down the stairwell. My skin still prickled from the wind, from the pinkie promise, from the way Daniel’s voice had cracked just slightly when he said, “ I promise to tell you the truth always.”

When he came so close our breath mingled, eyes locked, his hands on my waist and how we had almost kissed but at the last second he’d pulled back,and started down the stairs. I followed, my heart pounding, wishing he’d turned around and finished what the moment I craved. We stepped into the hallway. The apartment was dim, lit only by the streetlights filtering through the blinds. Daniel flicked on the kitchen light. The sudden yellow glow made everything feel too real, too ordinary after the rooftop vow.He turned to me, his expression softer than it had been in weeks. Almost hopeful.

“I’m going to cook,” he said quietly. “Something good. For you.”I leaned against the doorway, my arms crossed to hide how badly I wanted him to close the distance. “I trust it's going to be superb.”
“Definitely.” He opened the fridge, pulled out eggs, thick bacon, a wedge of aged cheddar, sourdough, butter, and an onion.
“Triple-cheese grilled sandwich. Bacon crisped in brown butter. Caramelized onions. Tomato soup from scratch. My mom’s recipe when I needed comfort.”The casual mention of his mother made my throat tighten. He rarely spoke about her.
I watched him slice the onion carefully.
“That sounds like heaven,” I said.He glanced over his shoulder and smiled small, tired, but real.
“Sit. Twenty minutes.”

I pulled out a seat and sat watching. Every time he reached for something near me our arms brushed. Every time our eyes met the air thickened with everything unsaid. I kept waiting for him to bridge the gap. To kiss me the way I’d been aching for since the rooftop. But he didn't. Halfway through stirring the onions his phone buzzed on the counter, loud, sharp, insistent. He glanced at the screen. His entire posture changed, shoulders locking, jaw tightening, the easy rhythm of cooking fading for three full seconds. Then he flipped the phone face-down and went back to stirring the onions like nothing had happened.

I noticed.
Of course I noticed.
When the food was ready he plated it beautifully: golden, oozing sandwich cut diagonally, small bowl of steaming tomato soup swirled with cream, fresh basil scattered on top. He set it in front of me.
“Eat,” he said softly.
I took a bite. The flavors hit like comfort I didn’t know I needed–crisp bacon, molten cheese, sweet-savory onions, the soup rich and bright.
It was perfect.
“uhmm ... .this is incredible,” I said sweetly. “Thank you.”
He didn’t sit. Just leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching me like the meal was his apology.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured.
I'm half way through the meal before the silence becomes unbearable.
“You could eat with me.”
He shook his head.
“Not hungry.”Another lie.
His eyes kept drifting to the phone.When I pushed the empty bowl away he took the plate gently, rinsed it at the sink. Then he straightened.
“I’m going to shower,” he said. “Try to get some sleep.”He walked past me. No brush of fingers. No lingering look. He just left. I sat there for a while. Then I stood, carried my glass to the sink, the cold water rushed over my wrists until the ache dulled.

I went to my room and curled under the covers. I opened my phone. Scrolled to distract myself from the way he’d almost kissed me, from the notification he’d ignored twice.Then the news popped up.

BREAKING: Hawthorne Enterprises Scandal: CEO Daniel Hawthorne Implicated in Major Leak of Confidential Financial Data – Internal Documents Surface Online.

My stomach went flat immediately. I tapped.The article loaded. The headline screamed. Below it was a screenshot of an internal memo–company letterhead, Daniel’s name in the sender line, detailing projected Q4 losses, off-book accounts, and–most damning–specific client names tied to questionable offshore transfers.

The kind of information that could tank stock prices, trigger SEC investigations, destroy reputations.Another clip shows Daniel to be in what looked like a hotel conference room last week, mid-sentence:
“I never claimed the projections were flawless… some numbers had to be massaged to keep investors calm.”

They’d edited it. Sliced context. Made it sound like admission of fraud.
The Comments were already mean.
Always knew he was dirty.
How much did he sell the data for?
His girlfriend must be in on it too.

Nausea rose through me as I threw the covers off. Ran barefoot down the hall.
Daniel was coming from his room, his hair wet, on gray sweatpants and black T-shirt, his phone already lighting his face again. He froze when he saw me.
“Nora–”I thrust my phone to his face. The screen glowed with the headline.“You ignored it,” I said, my voice shaking.
“On the rooftop. In the kitchen. Twice. Your face changed like someone punched you and you just… turned it over. Like it didn’t exist.”
His expression hardened. “It’s being handled.”
“Don’t.” My voice cracked. “Don’t you dare. You promised–no more secrets. You pinky-swore on a rooftop like it meant something. I believed you.”
He looked at the floor like a little boy who was being scolded by his mother. “They leaked an old email chain,” he said finally. “Twisted it. Made it look like I was deliberately falsifying reports. I wasn’t. I was trying to flag discrepancies internally. Someone took my drafts and weaponized them.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me?”
“I was going to fix it before it touched you.”
“Fix it.” I laughed. It was sharp and broken.
“Like you fixed the last rumor? By disappearing into your head? By cooking me breakfast like it erases everything?”

His eyes snapped to mine. “You think I want this touching you? You think I want reporters at your door? Your name dragged through boardroom scandals because you’re with me?”
“I’m already in it!” I shouted. The sound bounced off the walls. “I’ve been in it since I chose you. And you promised honesty. All of it. Even when it’s ugly.”
He took a step closer. Then stopped.
“I can’t protect you if you’re standing in the blast,” he said. His voice is low. “Every time I let you close the fallout gets worse. I saw how you looked at me this morning like you were waiting for me to be brave. And I’m not. Not right now.”
My eyes burned. “So what? You push again? You make me perfect grilled cheese and then vanish into your room like I’m some obligation you’re fulfilling?”
“I’m trying to keep your life from getting complicated because of mine.”
“I don’t want a life that doesn’t include you!”
Tears spilled. “I want the mess. The scandals. The nights you can’t sleep. I want you to stop deciding what I can handle.”
Silence stretched–sharp, suffocating.When he spoke again his voice was wrecked.“You need to leave,” he said. “Pack a bag. Go to Maya’s. Anywhere. Just… go.”The words punched the air out of me.“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” His voice broke. “I can't watch them ruin you. So please–” He reached out and dropped his hand. “Please. Leave.”I stared at him.At the man who’d cooked comfort food like a love letter. Who’d stood on a rooftop and promised everything. Who was now telling me to run.

Rage and grief collided through me.
“No,” I whispered. Then louder. “No. You don’t get to drag me into this and then exile me because it hurts less for you.”
“Nora–”
I turned. Grabbed my coat. Shoved my feet into my boots. He followed. “Wait–”I spun back. Tears streaming. My voice is shaking.“You promised,” I said. “And the second the world pushes, you fold. You expect me to walk away like I’m the one who can’t handle it?”
“You’re not the one who can’t handle it,” he gasped. “I am.”
“Then act like you can!” I yelled. “Fight for us! Stop choosing fear!”He flinched.
I opened the door as cold air rushed in as I paused.
“I’m not leaving because you ordered me to,” I said calmly. “I’m leaving because I can’t watch you destroy us both.”I stepped out slamming the door shut behind me. It echoed inside. Daniel stood frozen,his phone lighting up again–another notification, another leak, another rumor. And somewhere in the city, the scandal was only beginning to spread.