Page 49 of Redemption

“What do you mean?” I’ve learned that when all else fails, denial is your friend.

“Was it him?” A muscle jumps in his cheek. “Your husband? I couldn’t hear much of what you were sayin’, but it didn’t sound like a pleasant conversation.”

So much for denial. I should’ve known he wouldn’t let it go so easily.

“That’s none of your business, Beckett. Nothing I do or say is any of your business.”

I tell myself not to fidget under his intense scrutiny. “What if I want to make it my business?”

“What happened to, ‘I don’t want anything from you, darlin’?” I lower my voice mockingly on that last part. “Besides, I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”

“Things change. Including the fact that I don’t have a girlfriend. Technically, I haven’t had one of those since you.”

When Beck went chasing after Nicky last night, the possibility that they’d reconcile was nagging at me. I snort to disguise the relief I feel, reminding myself I shouldn’t care one way or the other.

“Pretty sure Nicky would see it differently.”

Beck nods once. “And that was part of the problem.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Can we please cut through all the bull? If you have somethin’ to say, Beckett, just say it.”

“Where’s your wedding ring?”

I shrug, eyes falling to the floor. “Your guess is as good as mine at this point.”

“Did you leave him? Is that why you came back?”

My eyes fill with tears, but I manage to hold them in. “Yes.”

“Why?”

My head snaps up. “Why what?”

Beck’s face falls, probably because I’m about to lose the battle with my tears. “Pres.”

I flinch when he reaches a hand out. I’ve hated being touched for so long, it’s a habit. My actions have absolutely nothing to do with the man before me, but the look on his face says he thinks it does.

“What was that?”

“I told you yesterday not to touch me, Beckett. That hasn’t changed.” When denial fails, try diversion. That’s another thing I’ve learned during my marriage.

He considers that for a moment. “And that’s all it is?”

I raise my eyebrows. “What else would it be?”

Beck studies my face, his intense focus making me fidget. I swear he’s trying to ferret out every single thought I’ve ever had.

“What are you hiding, Presley?”

I swallow, trying my damnedest not to react. “What makes you think I’m hiding something?”

His brown eyes drill into me. “Because I got really good at reading people while I was in the Navy. And like it or not, I know you. I have no doubt you’re hiding something pretty damn significant.”

I shake my head. “You don’t know me, Beck. Not anymore. Just like I don’t know you.”

He hasn’t stopped staring at me, looking at me like he used to when we were kids. Like his proprietary claim on my heart is infallible. Like he’s one-hundred percent confident I’m his, and I’ll always be his, no matter what life throws our way.

If only that were true.

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