Page 27 of Dart to Me
“Really? This is who you’re replacing me with? The new guy in town who doesn’t know the first thing about you?”
“He knows I deserve better than what you gave me.”
Miles’ face darkens. “I gave you everything. A home, stability?—”
“You gave me scraps,” I say, my voice growing stronger. “And expected gratitude for it.”
I can see the moment Miles realizes this isn’t going how he planned. His eyes dart to Julian again, this time with real hatred.
“You think you know her? Give it time. She’s damaged goods, man. High maintenance. Always wanting to ‘talk about feelings’ and shit.” He makes air quotes, his voice mocking.
Julian finally speaks, his tone even. “I think you should respect her request and leave. But we do need to talk to someone at the department, so if you could send someone else out, that’d be great.”
Miles’ face goes rigid, his jaw clenching so tight I can see the muscle jump in his cheek. “What exactly do you need to talk to the department about?” His eyes narrow, that familiar look of suspicion and control settling over his features.
“Someone left a note on my windshield, then texted me.”
His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, something that looks almost like genuine concern flashes across his face. Then his eyes slide to Julian again, and his mouth twists. “And you think I did it.” It’s not a question.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Miles runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I’ve seen a thousand times when he’s frustrated. “Jesus, Ellie. I may be pissed about us, but I wouldn’t— wait. Do you think it’s Rick?”
“It’s the only explanation.”
“I can file a report.”
“You’re damn right you can,” Julian says.
Miles’ eyes narrow at Julian’s intervention. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“But I’m talking to you,” I say, finding my voice again. “If you really want to help, send Officer Ramirez over. I’ll talk to her.”
“Elle—”
“No.” I cut him off. “I’m not discussing this with you. Not anymore. Send Ramirez or I’ll go to the station myself.”
Miles looks like he wants to argue, but something in my face must stop him. He nods once and backs away from the door.
“Fine. I’ll send her over.” He pauses, looking between Julian and me again. “Just... be careful, okay?”
The concern in his voice almost sounds genuine, and for a second, I see a flash of the man I once thought I loved. Then it’s gone, replaced by the cold mask he’s perfected over the years. I close the door without responding. My hands are shaking. Julian waits, giving me space, until I turn to face him.
“You did great,” he says, and there’s a pride in his voice that warms something deep inside me.
“I didn’t think I could stand up to him like that.”
“Well, you did.” Julian leads me back toward the kitchen. “And now we’re getting an officer who isn’t your ex-husband to take your report. That’s progress.”
The cinnamon rolls are perfectly golden in the oven when we check them. As Julian pulls them out, I pour us both coffee, trying to ignore the trembling in my hands.
“Do you think Miles could be behind the notes?” Julian asks carefully, setting the hot pan on a trivet.
I consider this as I add cream to my coffee. “No. As much as I hate to admit it, he wouldn’t do that. He’s controlling, not threatening.”
It takes about twenty minutes for a knock at my door. “That’ll be Ramirez,” I say, standing up.
Julian nods, giving my hand one last reassuring squeeze before I move to answer it. When I open the door, she standsthere in her crisp uniform, notebook already in hand. Her dark eyes are kind but professional.
