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I don’t trust the look, and I don’t trust her.
“Evan told you what, exactly?”
“Evan told me that James tried to kill him, thinking he’d do coke left out for him.”
“Did he?” she asks condescendingly. “I’m surprised because from what he told me, he didn’t want you to know.”
I hate her in this moment. I hate the expression of disinterest.
I hate that Evan was with her when he should have been with me.
I hate that she knew he was keeping secrets.
More than that, I despise that she has any hold over my emotions at all. How could this woman affect me so much? My inner voice hisses,because you let her.
“It was a mistake on his part,” I lie to her, my fingers tensing as I grip my purse harder. “He got drunk one night a few weeks ago and lashed out at me. It’s the last time we spoke.” Her expression changes slightly, but only slightly, with a raised brow and the hint of a smirk. Amusement. I fucking hate her.
“Maybe it was a mistake to come here. I thought you’d know or maybe get a sense of how Evan’s doing since you were with him.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Leaning forward, she puts out the cigarette in a mug that’s sitting on her furnace. It’s then that I know she’s not going to tell me a damn thing. She’s far too stiff and closed off.
“My apologies for coming then,” I say, shrugging it off. There’s some piece of me that wants to confront her about the affair years ago. A part of me that wants to tell her I know.
She’s a liar, though. It’s so very clear. There isn’t anything I need from this woman.
“It was a mistake on my part,” I say then offer her a sad smile, taking in the room once again. “I hope you get everything you want from the divorce.” I leave her with that false sincerity. The only thing I hope is that I don’t have a reason to ever think of her again. She’s nothing more than a waste of time and breath. Every second I’ve wasted on her is one I’ll never get back and this woman isn’t worth my time.
CHAPTER 26
Evan
“What’d you do today?” Kat asks as I turn on the stove, listening to the clicks before the gas lights.
“Not much,” I answer her as I look over my shoulder.Just hunting down the identity of a drug dealer.
“What do you think you want to do?” Kat asks me as I pour olive oil into a pan. Chicken marsala for dinner. My throat goes dry as I remember how Pops taught me how to cook it; it was one of his favorites.
“Like do for work?” I ask to clarify and put the chicken in the pan. The sizzle is perfect.
She shrugs and hops up on the counter, setting her ass down and letting her feet dangle. “I know you have some investments.”
“‘Some’ is putting it lightly. If you’re worried about money, don’t be. We’ll be fine.” I haven’t checked in a week or two on some of the stocks, but the savings account is more than enough. We’ve been here so long, both of us working and not doing muchof anything else, the money piled up. “I promise we’ll be fine, baby. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’m not really worried about money, it’s more about what you’re going to do with yourself.” She’s kept her distance in an odd way I haven’t experienced before. She’s careful with me. Every question seems planned, every touch cautious. It’s obvious that she’s still scared.
I flip the breasts over and pick up the pan, making sure to spread the oil before setting it back down. Just like how Pops used to do.
“We have a baby coming and you want to move,” I answer her and stride over, my bare feet padding on the floor as I go. Standing between her legs with my hands resting lightly on her hips, I tell her, “That’s all I’ve been thinking about for now.”
There’s a small hesitation before she speaks and a tension that flashes between us.That and James.His name is always on the tip of my tongue for any conversation we have. The threat of him lingers, even though we pretend it doesn’t.
“The baby won’t be here for a while,” she finally says and threads her fingers through my hair. I love it when she does this. When she loves on me. I missed this. “I’m worried about you,” she adds and I back away slightly, but she keeps me there, tightening her legs around me.
“Don’t be upset,” she says and her tone begs me to listen.
“I’m fine,” I respond stiffly and even I know it’s a lie.
“You just lost your father, and …”