Page 10 of Dad Bod's Daring December

“Ember, right?” she drawls, emphasizing my name like it’s a curse. “Eddie will never love you like he loved me.”

My eyebrows quirk. Rebecca. It has to be her, Edward’s ex. Her presence hits me like a hot gust whipping through the Vegas streets, all bluster and heat. I stare at her, absorbing the venom in her gaze, trying to process how someone who once claimed to love him could hate him this much.

“Edward isn’t my boyfriend,” I reply, my voice steady despite my quickening pulse. “He’s my neighbor. And if you were still so into ‘Eddie,’ maybe you shouldn’t have crashed your marriage for a guy who thinks soap is optional.” My words are calm, but inside, I’m reeling. This woman’s anger and jealousy are toxic enough to make my skin prickle.

Her hand whips up, aiming for my face, but it halts mid-air, seized by an iron grip. My breath catches as I follow the arm to its owner. Edward stands there, his frown fierce enough to stop a charging bull. His presence is like a shield built to withstand her venom.

“Rebecca,” he says, his tone flat, “you made your choice. Now live with it.”

She recoils from him as though he’s slapped her, trying to regain ground with false sweetness. “Eddie, baby, you know I miss you.” Her voice softens, her eyes pleading in a way that makes my stomach churn.

“Enough.” He doesn’t shout, but his command slices through the air.

I grab the mailbox as Edward turns to me and takes my free hand with a firmness that brooks no argument. “Let’s go.”

As we walk away, her voice scalds our backs. “You’ll pay for this! Both of you!”

I glance at the shotgun in Edward’s other hand. How much more will we have to endure before peace is more than a distant dream? I hate her. I hate her boyfriend. I hate that they think they can destroy my property and harass us without paying a price for it.

“Are you okay?” Edward’s voice cuts through the silence as we step out into the crisp air, the weight of his concern almost tangible. His gaze is on me, studying me as if he can sense the tremor of frustration hiding beneath my attempt at calm.

“Sure,” I lie, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “It’s just... I sometimes wish I’d never moved here.” The words spill out before I can stop them, slipping past my guard like a confession I didn’t mean to make.

I catch the flicker of pain on Edward’s face, the way his jaw clenches, and I scramble to soften the blow. “But there are good things about this town,” I admit, allowing myself a small truth. “Like unexpected friendships.”

We walk back to our cars, side by side but wrapped in our thoughts. Edward gives me a look before he climbs into his truck, a look that says a lot, before he hides it away. It was an apology, an attempt to ask me not to leave, an appeal that asked me to stay. Words he can’t say.

I smile and slide into the driver’s seat of my car. Usually, I’m happy to see him, and I’m grateful he was there when I needed him, but having to buy another mailbox, having to come face toface with the reason I needed that mailbox, it was too much. I want to be alone for a little while.

When Edward comes over later that evening, I’m back to my usual self. I won’t let Rebecca or her boyfriend ruin my friendship with him. I busy myself cooking dinner, a simple act that feels curiously intimate as Edward sits at the kitchen table—especially after our kiss last night.

As the garlic and herbs waft through the kitchen, Edward sits silently at the table, his roughened hands clasped in front of him. The air feels heavier than the aroma of dinner, and I know it’s not just my encounter with Rebecca that lingers.

“Dinner smells amazing,” he says, breaking the silence, his deep voice steady but laced with something unspoken.

“Thanks,” I reply, stirring the pan. “It’s nice to do something normal after today.”

His lips twitch into a faint smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Normal is good. We could use more of that.”

I turn, leaning against the counter, watching him. The lines on his face are deeper tonight, etched with worry. “What happened earlier—Rebecca... that wasn’t normal. Or fair. She’s... angry. And I can’t believe she left you forhim.”

He nods, the movement slow, weighted. “Rebecca and I were married for three years. At first, it was... good. Or at least, I thought it was. We had plans, a future. But somewhere along the line, I stopped being enough for her. Maybe I never was.” His voice is rough, edged with a bitterness he doesn’t bother to hide.

“Edward—”

He shakes his head. “Let me finish,” he says, his eyes locking onto mine, steady and resolute. “Razor came into the picture toward the end. I didn’t know who he was at first. Just some guy she started spending time with, calling him a ‘friend.’ But it didn’t take long to figure out the truth. By the time I confronted her, she was already halfway out the door.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “And she went to him.”

“Straight into his arms,” he confirms, his lips twisting into a humorless smile. “Razor gave her something I couldn’t—a life of excitement, danger, power. She always said I was too predictable. Too safe. Guess that’s not what she wanted after all.”

The pain in his voice cuts deep, and I cross the room, placing a hand on his shoulder. “That doesn’t make what she did okay.”

He covers my hand with his, his touch warm but hesitant. “I know that now. Back then? It crushed me. And when I found out what kind of man Razor was, it got worse. Drugs, weapons, extortion. The whole gang is rotten to the core, but he’s the heart of their darkness. I didn’t just lose my wife to another man, Ember. I lost her to a world I wanted no part of.”

I sink into the chair across from him, my appetite forgotten. “And now she’s using him to get to you. To hurt you.”

Edward nods, his expression grim. “She’s always had a vindictive streak. It was one of the reasons we argued so much. But this... it’s a whole new level. She hates that I didn’t fight for her. Hates that I’ve moved on, even if it’s just to this farm, this quieter life. And now that you’re in the picture—” He stops short, his words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

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