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But he had a video interview with a woman in ten minutes for that job, and then beyond that he had to go out to the property and talk to the current owner about some different contingencies. Which meant he had to get a handle on himself.

He made himself a coffee and sat in front of the computer.

He didn’t especially like computers. But they sure made everything easier.

He clicked the link to the meeting, and there was the woman he was intending to hire, looking sparkly and fresh. She was probably five to ten years older than he was—he felt like it was difficult to tell once everybody got to a certain age; genetics and lifestyle were either with you or they weren’t.

He had been looking pretty good for his age until he got blown up. That aged you a bit.

“You’re Monica?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Great. Let’s get going.”

He had a list of questions, which he stated pretty matter-of-factly, and tried not to be impatient when Monica editorialized on every question.

“So, what your responsibilities would be...”

“I was just...”

He looked up, feeling irritation begin to rise in his chest. “I’d rather if you didn’t interrupt.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, fumbling with some papers in front of her. He felt like a dick. He had sounded like such a jerk, and he hadn’t meant to. It was only that he was doing his best to hold on to his train of thought, which wasn’t usually a problem, but sometimes in situations like this where he had to keep track of a lot of details, it all felt a little bit slippery. In general, he didn’t have memory issues. But that was in general. There were times when he got thrown off, and apparently giving job interviews was one of them.

But he didn’t say that. He just pressed on.

And by the time the interview was over, he could feel that the energy had been sucked out of the interaction.

It reminded him of trying to do much of anything with Cass in the end.

“Great. Shit.” And now he was late for his other meeting.

He grabbed his phone off the counter and headed out the door, and right when he got in the truck, his phone rang. It was Cassidy.

He didn’t know what it was going to take to not have a physical reaction when he saw his ex-wife’s name on his phone. Not that she called often. For a long time, she had done things through lawyers. But sometimes he wondered if she liked to call to hurt him.

No. That wasn’t fair. Cassidy had never done anything to hurt him. It had been an untenable situation, and it was mostly of his making.

“Yes?” he said, picking up the phone.

“Did I call at a bad time?”

“No. Not a bad time. Just headed out.”

“Can you talk while you drive?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Just finalizing everything with the sale of the house. And I need you to send over some bank details so you can have some of the money deposited.”

“I don’t want it, Cass. I don’t need it. I got my payment from the military.”

“Don’t be a stubborn cuss, Gideon Payne. I didn’t divorce you to take everything from you.”

She’d divorced him because she didn’t love the version of himself he’d become. He would rather, if he could, hate her. If she had turned into a greedy, maniacal shrew like his sister seemed to imagine Cassidy had become.

Not that he’d given Lydia the information she needed to fully understand his role in the breakdown of his relationship with Cass. But that was just...shame he couldn’t figure out how to live with. And he really was trying to live.