“She doesn’t have to do that,” I insist, but Charly shakes her head firmly.

“They’ll have fun. And this way you can figure some stuff out and hang out with me for a few days.”

“You’re going to hang out with me?”

“Again, not letting you wallow alone, sugar.” She winks and sets a hat on my head. “That’s a good color for you.”

“I love you, you know.”

“I love you more.”

***

“I’d forgotten how nice it is out here,” Charly says as she swings opposite from me. She’s in a pretty sundress, lazily swaying back and forth. I’m in my usual spot, paging through the reservations coming up this week on my iPad, thanks to the cops for returning it to me. Cindy was fined and spent a night in jail for grand larceny.

And I’m just petty enough to find the thought of Cindy sitting in a jail cell very satisfying.

“I love how the trees make the house so cool,” Charly says with a sigh.

“Me too.”

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“Have you heard from Rhys?”

“No.” I don’t look up. The sting of not hearing from him at all is still sharp. It’s like he left and immediately forgot about me. And I miss him, damn it. I got so used to having him here, laughing with him, being in his arms, feeling him next to me while we slept.

And now he’s just gone. And it hurts so fucking bad.

“Maybe you will,” she says optimistically.

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a jerk.”

“Oh, come on, sugar. It’s not like he knew you were pregnant and jetted. He didn’t know.”

“I trusted him, Charly. I trusted him with my son, with my heart. I let my guard down, and I don’t do that. I let myself feel something so big for him it consumed me. I knew he would leave eventually, so I put that on me. He didn’t make me love him, but I did all the same. He never said that he wanted to stay, but regardless, he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t say anything. And I can deal with it when it comes to me, but not when it comes to Sam. Sam idolizes him and Rhys left as if Sam doesn’t matter at all. And that’s bullshit. So he can rot in hell as far as I’m concerned.”

“Gabby, you don’t know why he was called to Chicago, or even if he intends to stay there.”

“Why wouldn’t he stay there? That’s where his team is, his doctors, everything.”

“But until you talk to him, you don’t know. What if there had been an emergency with one of the other players or the coaches? Maybe someone died, or got hurt? Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”

“He hasn’t called once. All he had to do was pick up the phone and explain. He hasn’t. And he took all of his stuff.”

“Your phone has been off for the better part of two days, Gabby. You only turn it on to check messages, which is very unlike you. How do you know he hasn’t tried to call?”

“He hasn’t left a message.”

“Maybe—”

“Look, I appreciate that you’re playing devil’s advocate, but I don’t want to try to guess what he’s thinking. I’m not a mind reader, Charly. And if he’s not going to communicate with me, well, things aren’t going to work out anyway.”

“All I’m suggesting is that you should keep an open mind.”

“So noted.” Keeping my eyes pinned on the iPad, I hear a car driving up the driveway.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Charly asks.

“No. It’s Sunday. The guests are all gone. Someone’s probably lost. It happens all the time.”

The car stops and a man climbs out of it, and my whole world stands still.

“Oh shit,” Charly mutters next to me and is immediately on her feet, pulling her phone out of her bra. “Beau, we need you on the front porch now.”

“Hey, Gabby,” Colby says as he saunters closer. It’s been almost exactly eight years since I saw Colby, and little has changed about him, but as I stare at the man I once foolishly believed I loved, I can’t for the life of me figure out what I found attractive about him before.

“You need to get the hell out of here,” Charly says, her voice hard and mean. But Colby doesn’t even glance at her. He just watches me and continues talking to me.

“You look fantastic. You haven’t changed at all. Your body’s still smokin’, even after having a kid.”

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Charly growls, and suddenly, Beau is with us, coming through the front door.

“Call the police,” he instructs Charly, who steps to the side and does as Beau asks. Without taking his off of Colby, Beau turns to. His face is blank, but his whole body is tight with anger. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Beau,” Colby replies, but he’s still watching me. He’s trying to intimidate me, and eight years ago, it would have worked.

Today, he’s just pissing me off.

“There’s no need to call the police,” Colby continues. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“This is private property,” I reply, speaking for the first time. Thank God my voice sounds strong and unwavering, because I’m pretty sure my stomach is in my throat. My hands are shaking, so I clench them into fists. “My property. And I want you off of it.”




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