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Elle couldn’t stomach it – that was for certain. Every inch of her being was tingling with regret. Her mind wouldn’t stop replaying the night over in her head. How did she let this happen? The god damn camera had a strap on it for a reason. She let herself get caught up. It was such a rookie move. Why didn’t she carry her camera properly? Better question yet, why the hell didn’t she ever delete those pictures from the memory card? How exceptionally stupid.

Harry was going to hate her. He wasn’t ever going to forgive her for something like this. Those pictures were going to leak and she was to blame. It was all her fault and she had no excuse for what she did.

The door buzzer went off with Harry’s arrival and it startled Elle to her feet, causing a yelp to erupt out of her mouth. She was busy chewing on her thumbnail seconds before, trying to keep back the bile in her throat, thinking of every worse-case scenario to how Harry was going to react. She didn’t even have a best-case to go with. They were all bad.

She quickly made her way to the door and buzzed him up before he got the opportunity to push the button for a second time.

Knowing he was seconds away from being right in front of her face-to-face sent a painful chill down her spine. She was so scared. She was so scared this was going to ruin everything. The amount of feelings she had for him was crippling. She didn’t wantthemto be ruined. She loved him. She was sure of it.

His knock on the door was boisterous and once again, caused her to jump. Her fragile state couldn’t handle all the surprises his presence was bringing.

Elle bit her lip as she tugged open the door, making sure to hold her breath so she wouldn’t burst into tears at the sight of him. He stood in front of her looking as handsome and sexy as ever, wearing dark blue jeans with a brown belt, a dark denim button up with the sleeves rolled up and hung open revealing his white t-shirt. His hair was perfectly manicured into his signature tuft on the top of his head. And he just looked so amazing.

“Elle, are you okay?” He asked after seeing her distraught face.

“Harry…” She squeaked, unable to say anything else.

“It’s okay, Ace. We’ll get you a new camera,” he said, stepping forward, pulling her into his arms as he simultaneously kicked her apartment door shut.

She felt so much guilt as he comforted her in his arms, but she wanted to feel him one last time before she told him the truth. She wanted to feel his safe arms around her, holding her, loving her.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she breathed, pulling back from him.

“For what, babe? It wasyourcamera,” he said, looking at her questioningly, yet keeping all of the sympathy in his eyes.

“God,” she choked out as the tears pooled in her eyes.

“Elle, what’s the matter?” He asked, furrowing his brow in concern.

“Harry,god…” She croaked, breaking her eyes away from his.

“Elle…” Harry said, his voice more demanding, wanting to know what was going on.

“I’m sorry,” she said again as the first tear streaked down her cheek.

“Elle, what is going on?” He asked, and she looked up to find that his eyes no longer showed an ounce of sympathy.

“I just… I… the pictures…” She stammered. It took him a moment to register her words.

“Elle, no,” Harry gasped, shaking his head slowly as realization hit him.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry. I meant—” Elle apologized.

“You—they—our—those pictures?” Harry stuttered, trying to find the right words to ask the right questions.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” Elle cried.

Harry’s breathing heightened and seemed ragged and stressed at the realization of what it all meant. He was silent for a little while just trying to wrap his head around it. And then he looked up and his eyes pierced straight through her.

“Why were they still on your camera, Elle!?” Harry asked her firmly, the words sounding sharp and harsh.

It was the most upset she’d ever seen him in the whole time they were in each other’s lives. As a matter of fact, she’d never actually seen him this way, so it was eye-opening.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I forgot to… to delete them,” she stammered, her head a mush ofI’m sorry’sthat would never be enough to rectify the situation.

“You should have—God!I can’t believe this,” he said, fisting his short dark hair between his fingers for a moment, ruining his perfect look.

“You were mistercamera happy!” She shouted back at him, not used to being yelled at. Her self-defenses were kicking in without warning, even though she knew it was her fault.

“Yeah, they were for theSwiss bank account of folderson your computer, Elle. For us!” He snapped at her, his tone audacious and sarcastic.

Elle fell silent, thinking only of how badly she fucked up. It was on her. Why would she leave those pictures on her camera? There was no reason, no excuse.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I never meant… I didn’t…” Elle sighed, feeling defeated and worn.

“What happened?” He asked, with his own sigh, calming down significantly.

“I just… I was out and things got out of hand. There was a really big group of people and we all got pushed back and I fell and I wasn’t hanging on to it by the strap and my camera flew out of my hands and… and… and Lorenzo—” she said in a mass of run-on’s, halting her words with a big fat fucking realization.

“Lorenzo?” Harry asked.

“Lorenzo! Oh my fucking god!” Elle shouted.

“What? What, Elle?” Harry asked raising his voice too, wondering what the hell she was freaking out about.

“I was searching for my camera on my hands and knees and just, out of nowhere, a camera was thrust in my face. And I grabbed it without even looking at it, sure that it had to be mine. And when I looked up, Lorenzo was standing there telling me to be more careful next time. And I just… I was mind-blown at his generosity. Like, he found my camera for me and… and actually gave it back. But I got home and it wasn’t my camera. I didn’t see it until I got here and it wasn’t mine and… and I’ve been freaking out ever since I realized just what was on the camera. Harry, Lorenzo has my camera!” She explained, feeling ten-thousand times more miserable than she did before.

“Shit,” Harry scoffed, knowing just what it meant. Elle told him enough stories for him to know that Lorenzo was a complete snake.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again as new tears broke free from her eyes.

“Shh, Elle. I know,” Harry said, gripping her by the back of her head, pulling her to his chest to comfort her.

“What are the chances that he just got the cameras mixed up? Would he just give it back, without question?” Harry asked optimistically.

“Not likely. You don’t know him like I know him,” Elle whimpered against his chest.

“I don’t know him at all,” Harry reminded her.

“I do,” she groaned.

“How well do you know him?” Harry asked, pulling back to look her in the eye.

Elle’s cheeks flushed immediately under his gaze as the question floated disastrously between them.

“How well, Elle?” Harry pressed. Elle scoffed to herself in a heartbreakingI-don’t-want-to-share-my-dirty-secretskind of way.

“Elle,” Harry said firmly.

“Lorenzo was the first person I ever met in… in the field. I met him at a bar… him and Charlie actually. We all became good friends and they… they both turned me onto the life. But somewhere down the line Lorenzo and Charlie had a falling out and they weren’t friends anymore. And well… I stayed with Charlie,” Elle said, feeling the heat burning in her cheeks as she steadied her gaze on the floor rather than on him.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Harry pointed out right away. Elle swallowed hard, realizing the night wouldn’t end without her confession – the whole confession.

“Lorenzo and I used to… we used to sleep together… before the falling out,” Elle said quietly, her mouth going dry with her words.

She heard Harry take a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

“It literally meant nothing to me. And he’s the biggest asshole on the planet, Harry, I swear. It was a mistake,” she pleaded as she finally looked up to meet Harry’s bewildered gaze.

“So you and the guy who has naked, intimate pictures of us have a sexual history?” Harry asked, and Elle could sense he was being a little stand-offish. He was upset and she couldn’t blame him.

“I never meant for this to happen. I never meant… I should never have… I should have taken those pictures off. I’m so sorry,” Elle cried into her hands.

“God damn it, Elle,” Harry scoffed as he began pacing the floor of the small space. She felt absolutely terrible.

“There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s going to release them?” Harry asked quickly.

“That’s who he is, Harry. He doesn’t have any regard for anybody else’s feelings. He… he’s just… he’s in it for himself, for the money,” Elle cried, tears sliding relentlessly down her cheeks.

“Fuck,” Harry growled.

“I’m so sorry.” Elle looked up at him, her whole mind a mess over what she did.

“I… I’ve gotta go, Elle. I’ve got to talk to my team. I’ve got to prepare for… for whatever the fall-out’s going to be. I…fuck,” Harry stammered in a daze.

“Harry, please,” she pleaded, taking a desperate step toward him. She didn’t know if she could be away from him right now. She didn’t know if he’d come back if she let him go.

“Elle, Ihaveto deal with this,” he barked, causing her to retract her step. His eyes shot up to hers and she could see the sympathy in them once again.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” he said, stepping toward her, gripping her face gently in his hands.

“I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. I just… I have to take care of this. I have to,” he said, looking into her eyes. She nodded helplessly at him.

He leaned down, pressing their lips together sweetly.

“I’ll call you later. I promise,” he told her as he pulled away. She nodded again, but he didn’t see her because he was already to her door, throwing it open.

Without another word, without a goodbye, he disappeared out of her apartment and with everything in her, she hoped it wasn’t for good.

Hours passed and Elle lay lifeless in her bed trying not to cry, trying to focus on her breathing. Her heart hurt, her eyes hurt, her brain hurt, her lungs hurt, her stomach hurt – everything hurt. She sent a text to Harry about an hour after he left her apartment and he sent one back immediately saying he couldn’t talk because he was in a meeting with his team. She hadn’t heard word since. It was now nearing four o’clock in the morning and she still hadn’t got the call he promised.

By the morning, by the time the sun has sprung through the window panes of her tiny apartment, Elle was scouring the internet for any signs of the pictures, but there was nothing. Either Lorenzo didn’t find them, or he was waiting for the precise time to take Elle and Harry both down. She knew it in her heart of hearts it was the latter that would win out in the scenario. There was no way it was an unintentional swapping of cameras. Lorenzo always had a motive and rarely ever slipped up. He was cunning and callous and a snake in every sense.

Sometime during the day, when Elle laid in her bed in and out of consciousness, there was a loud knock at her apartment door. She almost wanted to just ignore it and not even bother to get up out of bed, but a prickling of hope inside of her told her it was Harry coming to finally talk to her, to tell her just what was going on since they last spoke.

She pulled herself out of the bed just as a second knock erupted through the silence.

“I’m coming!” She shouted, twisting her tank top and shorts back into their original position on her body instead of the way all the tossing and turning left them.

She swiftly unlocked the door and pulled it open as hope bubbled up inside of her. And in an instant all those bubbles were popped when she saw Charlie’s scowling face in front of her.

“Oh, it’s you,” she grumbled as she turned and walked back toward her bed.

“’Oh, it’s you’? Really? Thanks,” Charlie said sarcastically as he walked in, shutting the door behind him.

“I’ve had a rough night,” she said, flopping back down on the mattress.

“I can see that. What were you and Romeo doing all night?” Charlie asked suggestively. Elle’s stomach tied in knots at the mentioning of Harry.

“Or… what happened?” Charlie asked as concern washed all over his face, looking at her distressed features.

“I fucked up,” she choked out as she felt tears prickling in her eyes.

“Uh, I might have something to cheer you up,” Charlie said, digging in his messenger bag. Elle watched as he pulled out a camera –her camera!

“CHARLIE!” She shouted, scrambling out of bed to grab the camera from his grasp.

“I knew it would make you happy.” He smiled.

“Holy shit! Where did you—how did you—where did you find this!?” She stammered as relief flooded her whole entire body.

“You’ll never guess.” He smirked at her.

“Not in the mood for guessing games, Charlie.” She shot him a look.

“Lorenzo.” Charlie smiled proudly. Her heart dropped into her ass.Lorenzo. Hedidhave her camera.

“What—how… he just gave it to you?” She choked out.

“Yeah. He text me this morning and said he found your camera, accidently switched it with his or something and he didn’t know how to get ahold of you,” Charlie told her. Elle stood there staring at him blankly.

Were Lorenzo’s words true? Did he justaccidentlyswitch them? Did he even look at her footage? Oh god, she hoped he didn’t. She hoped Lorenzo located an ounce of decency in his hollowed out body and really only accidentally mixed up their cameras.

Elle moved quickly to her laptop, popping out the memory card from her camera in the process. She shoved it in the appropriate slot on her computer and waited as the pictures all popped up one by one. They were all still there. She was filled with relief once again, feeling that just maybe the shit wasn’t going to hit the fan on this one – just maybe the bullet would be dodged completely.

Without hesitation she deleted each and every racy frame off of the memory card, not wanting to ever go through something like that again.

“What has got you going?” Charlie asked, looking at her oddly.

“Nothing. Just, nothing. I am just so happy to have my camera back,” she told him, refraining from filling him in on the indecent picture collection that almost fell into the wrong hands.

“So, listen. I told Lorenzo I’d get his camera back, too,” Charlie told her.

“Oh, yeah. It’s… it’s over on my desk,” she said, closing the top of her laptop, nodding her head toward it.

Charlie spotted it, grabbing it up and putting it in his messenger bag.

“Glad I could make your day, Elle.” Charlie smirked at her.

“I’m glad you could too, Charlie. You have no idea,” she sighed, feeling like she was the luckiest person ever.

“I’ll see you around then? You going out tonight?” He asked.

“I think I might sit this one out,” she told him, still feeling queasy over the situation.

“Lunch soon then?” He asked.

“For sure,” she said, giving him a weak smile.

“Cheer up. Your life has been returned to you.” Charlie smiled, pointing to her camera.

“Yeah.” She smiled and nodded.

“I’ll see you later, Elle,” Charlie chuckled.

“Bye,” she said and watched as he left her apartment.

She grabbed her cell phone off the night stand and quickly sent Harry a text.

Elle: My camera has been returned, pictures and all. :)

But she got nothing in return and she was certain things were irrevocably different between them already.

Notes