Page 51 of Fallen Stars

With a gentle shake of my head, I inhale a deep breath, count to five, and exhale.

“Everything good with Desmond?”

Lifting her menu, she drops her gaze and swallows. “Not sure. We broke up.”

Shit. Now I feel like an asshole.

No one feels great after a breakup. She’s probably masking her pain with artificial joy. And here I am, giving her a hard time. I should be consoling her. I should be the friend that asks what they can do to make it better. Hell, her breakup is probably part of the reason she wanted to go out tonight.

“Sorry to hear.” And I genuinely mean it. “He seemed like a good guy. Goes to show appearances aren’t everything.”

Before she responds, the server returns with our drinks and takes our dinner orders.

Once the server leaves, silence is an encapsulating bubble around our table. I remain tight-lipped and give her a moment to gather her thoughts. To tell me why she and Desmond are no longer a couple. I picture countless scenarios, but nothing sticks. I didn’t know Desmond well. But the last I saw them both together, they appeared genuinely happy as a couple.

“I broke up with him,” she finally admits.

Of all the reasons I anticipated hearing from her, I didn’t expect her to say it washerwho broke up withhim.

“Why?”

With a shrug of her shoulders, she picks up her glass and sips her wine. “Felt like the right thing to do.”

All I know of their relationship is what Abigail has shared, which isn’t much. But in the past month and a half, I’ve heard only wonderful things about him. She spoke of a future with him. Marriage and children and being with someone she loved.

I lean forward and rest an arm on the table as I try to make sense of her news. The more I think about it, the more confused I become.

“Did he cheat on you?”

If that’s the case, I may need to pay a visit to his work and give him a piece of my mind.

Her brows furrow as she shakes her head. “No.”

No? Then what? What did Desmond do that would make Abigail not want to be with him anymore?

And then she reaches across the table, sets her hand over mine, and curls her fingers slightly. Her expression softens as she stares at me across the table.

The nagging voice in my head screams and the spasm in my midsection explodes into nausea-inducing pain. I jerk my hand away from hers and push back in my chair.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

“It doesn’t feel right to be with Desmond when I no longer feel the same for him.”

I ball my fingers into fists in my lap. Breathe heavily through my nostrils. Do my best not to cause a scene in the middle of the restaurant.

Abigail rolls her lips between her teeth. “Not when I want to be with someone else.”

My fingernails dig into my palms as my molars gnash together. Anger bubbles from each of my pores and radiates around me like a venomous cloud.

“I mean, our families already think we’re dating. It’d be easy to not pretend,” she prattles on.

“No,” I bark out louder than expected.

She flinches, then lifts her hand from the table in a gesture for me to hear her out. “We like each other.”

“Not like that,” I insert before she says anything else.

“But—”

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