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I hesitate, and then reach across and curl my hand over hers once again. I honestly have no idea where this is going, but I want her to know that she can trust me. “Take your time, we’re in no rush. I’m here for you.”

Her fingers tremble beneath mine, but the small smile she flashes me is all the proof I need to know that she appreciates my support. She closes her eyes. When she reopens them, all of the words tumble out in a rush. “My dad is dead, murdered by someone I considered one of my best friends.”

She sags into the booth, like a burden’s been lifted off her back. Meanwhile, I’m frozen in place while an icy finger trails down my spine. “I’m sorry, did you just say that your dad was murdered? By a friend? I don’t understand, I thought he was still alive.”

She hangs her head. “I know, and I’m sorry. I was too scared to tell you. I didn’t update my IPP application, and I was worried they’d kick me out of the program. Plus, you needed this program and well... I needed a fresh start. I’m so sorry, Jim.” She looks up at me with glistening eyes. “I should have told you sooner, I just panicked. I didn’t want to drag you into my mess if I didn’t have to.”

My shock wears off, chased away by adrenaline. My body switches into high-alert mode. I squeeze her hand one more time before leaning onto my elbows while my mind whirls. “Is the person, this former friend of yours, who murdered your dad, in jail?”

Taya shakes her head. “No. They didn’t have any proof.” When she looks at me this time, her eyes blaze. “But I know for sure that Marco did it. And I’m partly to blame. I told him about Dad’s investigation into Santoro. That’s the only way they would have known Dad was coming for them.” A tear slips down her cheek. “If I’d just kept my mouth shut, he might still be here today.”

My heart cracks at the raw pain in her voice. I might only have a fraction of the story and no clue who any of these people are yet, but it’s enough to understand the guilt has been eating away at Taya for a while now. Guilt that is entirely misplaced. She looks so small, huddling in the booth. Maybe I should be upset that she lied, but all I want to do right now is comfort her.

This time, I reach out with both hands and take hers in mine. “Taya—”

I never get to finish my sentence, because a small hand curls around my shoulder. Taya’s looking behind me, confusion etched on her face. I turn, expecting to find the waiter with our appetizers. But what I get is a slap in the face.

Spoiler alert: I did not, in fact, order a slap in the face.

“It’s good to see you, Jimmy.”

Apparently this is a night full of surprises. The face and voice of the woman whose red nails are wrapped over my arm is a blast from the past. A terrible one. My muscles tighten in anticipation and I grip the edge of the table, preparing my body for the overwhelming onslaught of emotions that usually accompany my ex-wife—stabbing pain or fiery rage, or some combination of the two. But to my surprise, there’s nothing beyond a few twinges. Transient reminders that this woman was bad news.

The main thing I’m feeling? Impatience over the interruption. “Raychel, we’re a little busy here...”

Tactical error. Raychel’s claws dig into my shoulder. She never did like being dismissed. Her eyes narrow and home in on Taya. “Well, who do we have here? Come on, Jimmy, aren’t you going to introduce me to your little...friend?”

“I’m hiswife.” Taya is stiff-lipped. Her face is flushed, fists clenched on top of the table while she zeroes in on my former wife’s nails on my shirt.

I pluck ex’s hand off my shoulder and grimace. A social visit from my ex is about the last thing Taya needs right now. Raychel’s expression twists further when the light from a nearby wall sconce reflects off of Taya’s wedding ring. “Bummer. I didn’t get my wedding invitation in the mail.”

Before I can process that yes, my ex is really going there, my former wife scoots into the booth beside me. “Isn’t this cozy?”

She’s squished up against my side, her leg pressed to mine. Once again, I wait for the emotions to flood me. Hatred. Desire. Loss.

Once again, there’s none of that. Nothing except a warm rush of gratitude, that the woman in my life now is the one sitting across the table from me, and not the mess beside me. The sensation is new, and I take a few moments to revel in the relief sweeping through my veins.

“You swore you’d never marry again, and yet, here you are.” Raychel focuses on Taya’s ring again and a malicious smile spreads across her face. “I guess that means you know all about Jim’s past. How he’s all messed up because of that kid he shot, and how his buddy Lux hated the sight of him so much afterward, that he volunteered to stay behind just to avoid him.”

The air leaves my lungs in a rush at the memory. Taya blanches, while Raychel’s smile widens before she lifts a hand to her mouth. “Oh no, did I let the cat out of the bag?”

I can only stare at Taya and absorb the shock and pain on her face. Dammit. This is the worst possible way for her to find out. “Taya, please, I can—”

Raychel makes atskingsound that frays my nerves. “Explain how you gunned down a kid in cold blood? Oh sweetie, I don’t think there’s any way to explain your actions. That’s the reason you’re such a disaster. Because you know you’re guilty.”

The pain stabs now, slicing right through my chest. Raychel knows exactly how to wield the blade. I can’t even defend myself, because what she’s saying is true.

But apparently Taya can. “Shut up. Shut your lying, trouble-making mouth before I shut it for you. An opportunity I clearly missed out on when I met your sister. Anyone with half a brain knows that Jim is one of the good ones, which I guess doesn’t say much for your intelligence.”

“I’d do as she says. Mywife,” I emphasize the word on purpose as the corner of my mouth quirks up into a lopsided smile, “has quite a right hook.”

I scour the restaurant until I find who I’m searching for: a familiar face. The face of the Marine who I’d found Raychel screwing in my bed. “And besides, your date looks restless.” I offer him a smile and a wave and try not to laugh when the man grabs the menu and ducks behind it. The last time we’d met, I hadn’t been nearly so cordial. The sight of him used to send me into a rage. Now? I’m happy that my ex is his problem.

Raychel stiffens and turns to me and traces a finger down my chest, batting her eyes up into my face. “Well, if you ever want to meet up... for old times’ sake, you know where to find me.”

Taya starts to rise from her seat, but I wave her back down. Raychel is my problem. Gently but firmly, I push Raychel’s hand away from my chest. “Let me be very clear. I’ll never want to meet up with you, in any context. I thought I loved you once, but as it turns out, I didn’t even know you. You’re my past. I’ve moved on, and I’m happy now. I hope you find whatever makes you happy, but that person never was, and never will, be me.”

Raychel’s eyes go wide and her mouth opens, but no words come out. Still, I brace myself for another outpouring of nastiness. Instead, she stands up and tosses her hair. “Whatever. Enjoy your boring little lives together.”

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