Page 22 of The Dollmaker

“Right.”

When she didn’t expound, he raised a brow. “Why the meeting, Tessa?”

“I wanted to let you know I’m back in Richmond. I’ve applied for a yearlong fellowship at the medical examiner’s office. In fact, Dr.Kincaid just offered me the job. I start in the morning.”

That muscle twitched again in his jaw. “She’s smart. Manages a good shop. Why tell me?”

Ice coated each word. He wasn’t attempting cordial. But then it had never been easy with him. “We’re going to run into each other. In fact, the medical examiner’s office has one of your cases on the docket for tomorrow.”

“You could have told me all this in a text.”

“I know you don’t like texts.”

As he sat back, his jacket opened a fraction, offering a glimpse of his badge clipped to his belt, inches from the grip of his weapon. He waited.

She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. “I understand this victim is young.”

He impatiently tugged at the edge of his jacket. “When you officially start, we’ll talk about it.”

Old frustrations stirred, and she remembered he could be abrupt, his tone blunt when he was upset. She knew he was angry with her. She’d blasted out of his life on a rush of emotion and little thought.

Now, when she wanted to say the right words to mend a once-strong connection shattered into so many pieces, words alone felt inadequate.

Dakota’s question was as piercing as a honed blade. “So that’s it? You wanted to give me a heads-up?”

“That was part of the reason.”

He didn’t speak. Barely seemed to breathe.

“I wanted to see you. To see for myself you’re doing okay.”

He shook his head, as if he were bracing for a second shoe to drop.

“I also wanted you to know I remembered today is Kara’s birthday. I haven’t forgotten.”

He didn’t blink. “Okay.”

“She was my friend, too. What happened to her changed my life as well.” Her thumb rubbed the underside of her ring finger as if expecting to feel her wedding band.

“Happened?”

“Yes.” She’d hoped mentioning Kara would chip away at the wall between them, but it only added more bricks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rub salt.”

A weary sigh leaked from his lips. “I assume you’re now making small talk and screwing up the courage to talk about a divorce.”

Their broken marriage dangled between them like glass shards. Hardly anyone would have noticed any hope glinting around the jagged edges. “No, I’m not.”

“No, you’re not what?”

This was the moment she’d rehearsed a hundred times on the long plane ride home. “I’m not filing the papers.”

His gray eyes narrowed. “You want me to?”

“No,” she blurted.

Wariness flashed as his eyes narrowed. “Why not? A clean break means you can get on with your life.”

If this had been a tug-of-war game, she’d have been digging in her heels. “Is that what you want?”

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