Page 72 of Against All Odds

I ran a hand over my face. I nibbled my lower lip, thinking about what else I could do to scare up more foot traffic. We needed more tourists because the locals were not coming back—not after Heath publicly turned his back on meafterhe ground me into the dirt.

Casey slid a cup of coffee in front of me. It was my second of the hour. I wasn’t sleeping well, thanks to all the freaking stress in my life. My heart was broken, my business was going bust, and I was seriously thinking about asking my doctor for some Xanax or Ambien, which was a significant step for me, considering I wasveryanti-drug, having been raised by a drunk and an addict.

There was a knock on the front door, and Casey raised an eyebrow. We weren’t opening for another two hours. She went to the door, and I went back to my laptop.

“Sable, you have a visitor.” Her eyebrows were raised in thatyou’re not going to like thisway.

When I saw who myvisitorwas, I wanted to scream at the universe.Really?Today was the day that I had to deal with Jack along with all my other shit?

My ex-husband looked the same as always—decent enough, but with that weak chin that seemed fitting for a man with low integrity and a flexible spine. It had been over six months since we’d gone our separate ways, and it was incredible how little time I’d spent mourning him or the demise of our marriage. Sure, part of that was thanks to the distraction Heath provided, but I suspected the real reason was that Jack had been my hiding place, my shield from the world. Now that I’d been pushed out of my comfort zone and forced to face life head-on, I could see it clearly—I had never loved him.

I’d have stayed with him, been loyal, and supported him through anything, but he’d thrown me away. And in doing so, he’d pushed me to grow in ways I hadn’t expected. The person I’d become didn’t have much emotion left for this man in his khakis and button-down, looking like he’d wandered in from some corporate seminar.

Unfairly, I found myself comparing him to Heath—taller, stronger, more sophisticated, more rugged…simply more. Jack, by contrast, was just a shadow of what I once thought I was lucky to have.

“Jack.” I closed my laptop but didn’t get up from the barstool.

Casey gave me a pointed look, clearly waiting for my signal to stay or leave. I waved her off, and she left, muttering something about “being close if I needed her to knee the asshole in the nuts.”

He came closer, his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking uncertain. “Hi, Sable.”

“Have a seat.” I was sitting at a corner of the bar, so I pointed to the bar stool on the other side.

He did as I requested. I could smell him. He was still using the Dior cologne I’d given him for his birthday earlier this year. How some things didn’t change. But how some things did since he looked older than he had when I last saw him. I wondered what I looked like to him and what changes in me he noticed.

“You look…ah…nice.”

Well, that was something. Mostly these days, people told me I look tired, which wasn’t far from how I felt.

“Would you like something to drink?” I pointed to the shelves behind the bar.

He smiled wanly and shook his head.

We nodded at each other, the silence heavy with tension, hinting at what was to come. I suspected the conversation might not be pleasant, despite the veneer of politeness and decency we were both maintaining…for now.

“Congratulations on the baby,” I blurted out.

Caleb. He’d named his son Caleb after the one we’d lost. When I’d first heard, it had crushed me. Now, looking at him, it didn’t hurt at all. I was glad I never had a child with Jack, never had something to tether me to him.

He shrugged and looked tremendously sad. “Ah, well…. The bar looks nice.”

“Thanks.” I waited for him to say more. After all, he was the one who came to me.

He gave me a look that was somewhere between a distressed smile and a happy frown. It was the same one he’d given me before he’d told me about Molly.

“Jack?” I urged after the silence became ridiculously long.

“How are you?”

I suppressed a sigh. “Is that why you’re here? To ask me how I am?”

He shook his head, letting out a long breath, his fingers holding onto the edge of the bar as if for dear life. “No. That’s not why I’m here.”

Well?” I prompted when he didn’t continue.

He rested his elbows on the bar. “Molly’s leaving me.”

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. That was not what I expected him to say. As I tried to think about how to respond, the only word that came to mind was, “Okay.” And then, because more words made themselves form in my head, I added, “It’s really none of my business, Jack.”

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