Page 33 of Just My Ex

“Still up to your old antics, huh boy?” He glances at me. “One time, he chewed through a thicket of poisonous nettle.” He tosses him a glare. “Not smart of you, Maverick. He got sick. You think he smells bad now … whew wee!”

“I can’t believe there’s this whole thing about a donkey and you never told me. I mean, from the looks of it, he was your best friend, and you never even mentioned him.”

“Best friend? A donkey? Now that’s just pathetic, Quinn.”

I giggle and shrug. “You’ve said you didn’t really have many friends, because you had brothers instead.”

Henry stills, his face going taut. Not unlike when he was talking with Alec.

“Yep.” His voice is breezy, as breezy as Henry Tate gets. “Let’s take him back. I doubt his owner, Gary, is even up there. He doesn’t live nearby anymore. Some assisted-living place in town.” Henry taps the donkey’s backside and gently leads him up the path. I follow behind, careful to look for any droppings the beast might be leaving as gifts for me.

“Then who feeds him? Who takes care of him?”

“Gary still comes several times a week, as I understand it. But I like that you care about him. I knew he’d grow on you.”

“It must be some odd version of Stockholm Syndrome or something.”

Henry’s throat is exposed as he drops his head back in a hearty laugh. “Aw, what did Maverick ever do to you?”

“He breathed on me!”

Henry laughs again.

Okay, okay. I get it, Universe. I get that I miss his laugh. He hasn’t been this carefree since, well, probably since year two of our marriage.

And that neck. I’ve loved Henry’s strong, tanned neck for a very long time.

It takes several attempts to get the donkey to cooperate enough to get him back to his barn. Sure enough, the owner isn’t there, so Henry finds some sort of hay looking stuff and turns on a hose to fill his water tub.

Before we go, Henry pats Maverick’s head again. “See ya later, Mav.”

We start descending the sandy hill and get a nice view of the resort, the brilliant sun splicing the water like shimmering, liquid glass.

Finally, Henry speaks up. “I’m glad the resort’s here instead of wind turbines like what was originally planned.”

I shudder. “That would have been terrible.”

We’ve just started down the trail when Henry receives a phone call. He answers and continues walking near my side, but after a moment, he pulls up short. “Say that again?” Henry waits a moment then looks over at me. “The guy at the front desk says you have a visitor.”

Before I can answer, Henry’s got him on speaker and he’s pulling up the security video feed on his phone. His earlier levity is gone, and in its place is the hunched shoulder, severe-line-across-the-forehead look.

“She says her name is Marley Delfini?” Front desk guy says.

“Oh!” I say, relieved. “She’s my cousin. It’s fine.”

But it’s like Henry doesn’t hear me. He keeps trudging, and he’s pulled ahead of me.

“Henry, I said it’s fine. She’s my cousin.”

He whips around and shows me his screen. “Can you confirm this is her?”

I squint. The sun is bright overhead. “Uh. Yeah. It’s her. You know her, too.”

“Are you sure? Because it might be someone who looks like her.”

I throw my head back in a laugh. “It’s totally her.”

“Why is she here?” he growls. He doesn’t even let me answer, instead telling the front desk guy to keep an eye on her and not to let her leave. “Not even to use the restroom. Not until I get there,” he tells him.

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