Page 66 of Legal

I barely remembered driving home; my mind was a tangled mess, and coming into my driveway was the rotten cherry on top of the melted sundae. I wanted to scream. I pulled into the garage, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door behind me.

“What are you doing here?”

My ex held up a key. “Returning this as promised. I forgot to leave it the other night.”

I snagged it and put it into my purse. “Thank you, but you do still have one of the garage door openers.”

“Oh, right. I’ll get that back another time.” He leaned in and sniffed me. “When did you start smoking again?”

“God, Mike. Do I look like I’m high to you?” I shook my head. “Is that all you wanted?”

He didn’t say anything for a time, and I got the sinking suspicion he was trying to make something up. I felt my frustration level rise. “Hey,” he said, pulling out his cell. “Did you see Daniel’s new pictures?”

“Yes, Mike. You know that he sent them to me too.”

He started scrolling through them, laughing. “What did you think about the one of him at Rossi’s? Pretty funny, huh?”

“It was Luini’s.”

“No, I don’t think so. Look.”

I turned out to be right, but the damage was done. He’d already sucked me in. We stood there pouring through all the photos, and I couldn’t stop until the last one. Man, I missed that boy.

I checked the time: 6:17. Chase was never late. Never. Something was up. “I really have to go and change out of these clothes now. Thanks again for dropping off the key.”

I was halfway up the front walk before I noticed he was following me like a puppy. “Hey, you need any help decluttering or something?” he asked.

Are you fucking shitting me? What was up with the men today—was I giving off an ‘I have meaningless sex’ vibe?

I turned to face him. “What’s going on, Mike? Is this about Candace again?”

“Well, now that you asked….”

I righted forward and went into the house. We’d barely spoken since before the divorce, and now he was my bud? I kicked off my heels, then made a beeline directly to the bedroom to peel off my suit. To no surprise, Mike was waiting for me in the living room when I came out.

I sat there physically listening to him ramble on about his commitment angst, but the rest of me was somewhere else. Close to seven, I got a text.

I’m so sorry I missed you, Jillian. I’ll be there later to explain everything.

I stared down at the screen.I don’t think so.Sure, we were casual, but that didn’t mean he could blow me off for someone else and expect me to wait patiently while he did it. I’d be a slut long before I’d be some guy’s doormat.

“Something wrong?” Mike asked.

“No, it’s fine.” I set the phone down and rested my head back. I hated that this affected me, but what did I expect? “And I still don’t understand why you’re telling me this stuff and not the person you should be.”

“You’re easier to talk to.”

Like that made a lick of sense. I rubbed my eyes. Between last night and today, I was drained. It wasn’t much later before I received an incoming call, which I declined, and then another text.

Jillian?

Mike gave me a look. “There is something wrong. Does this have to do with your, uh, friend?” I didn’t respond; he was the last person I’d talk to about Chase. “Did I mention that I saw him today at St. Mary’s?”

My head snapped sideways. “What? No. When?”

“At least I think it was him. He was running in as I was leaving.”

“Fuck, Mike. When?” Those frustration levels were nearing their peak. He’d waited until now to say something?

---