Lion and Lace [Tom Hiddleston]

I leave Tom naked and utterly expended in bed the next morning after a quick shower that ended with us both back between the sheets. I insisted he stay there as long as he liked and for the first morning this year I'm running late for work.

Prue calls out to me on my way past. "Just put your stuff down and come back, please?"

"Ok," I call back and do as she asks, relieved to find a coffee waiting for me on her desk.

"This isn't about me being late, is it? Because it's the first time in a year."

"No, sweetie. It's... I have to show you something. I wish I didn't, but I'm your friend and I can't just let it go."

"What's going on?"

"Something's come out over the weekend."

"Is this about Tom? The woman that's saying he sleeps around?"

"He told you?"

"He told me some crew member is telling stories about him."

She nods. "From the wrap party. There are photos, Becca."

"We all know how they can be misconstrued. Look at the ones from his birthday."

"Sweetie, I do know. And I wouldn't worry you with it if I didn't think it was something. It might be nothing, but it looks bad."

"Show me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm fucking sure. If my... Tom is seeing another woman I need to see!"

She starts clicking with her mouse and I start fidgeting with a letter opener from her desk. Finally she turns her monitor around and there is a full screen photo displayed. The man is definitely Tom, I'd be able to pick his profile a mile away and I'm sure thousands of other women could, too. He's wearing the light blue button shirt that I love, with his sleeves rolled up, and that's his watch...

That's his watch, on his wrist attached to his hand, which is on the cheek of a blonde woman. His fingertips are stretched out into her hair, his eyes are closed and their lips are most certainly kissing. Not the 'it's been great working with you' type peck that might accidentally end with lips on lips, but an open mouthed kiss. It's magnified and grainy but it's enough to be obvious. Enough to make my stomach twist around on itself until I feel sick. Enough to make tears well in my eyes.

"Fuck." I choke out as I stand up.

"Sweetie, I'm-"

"Don't. Please."

Out of Prue's office I go straight to mine and close the door with more restraint than I thought I possessed, and sit on the floor against it. I want to call Tom and scream at him, but I also want to never see him again. The rest of me wants him to give me a rational explanation, and the rational part of me knows there can't be one. There can't be.

This can't be happening. He said he loved me.

It feels like a week has passed when Prue knocks on the door with a fingernail. "Becca?" She whispers. "Please let me in."

I shuffle across the floor so she can open the door and she closes it behind her to fill my previous position. "I'm sorry, honey. What can I do?"

"Nothing. There's nothing to do. Thank you for telling me."

"The photo is on another actor's Instagram, they just happened to be in the background. She's taken it down, now."

"That doesn't mean it didn't happen. And I assume it's everywhere?"