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“That sounds wonderful,” Mrs. Grazia said in her chipper voice.

I had to give it to her, she was trying for me.

As long as she kept pretending that the scene on the island never happened, then I could pretend too.

The three of us made our way to the back of the store, to the bakery counter.

Benny pointed to a giant, chocolate-cream-filled cream puff.

“Is that what you want?” I asked. His eyes glazed over. He wanted it. “What about you, Mrs. Grazia?”

“I think I’m going for the vanilla. Benny has good taste.”

Sneaking in before she could order her vanilla cream puff, I asked the worker for two of the chocolate and one vanilla. With no arena shift today, we had hours to kill before I needed to be at the club.

On the drive home, I vowed to put the confrontation with Reece out of my head because what was better than sitting down to a delicious homecooked meal with loved ones?

Mrs. Grazia took Benny while I hauled the groceries upstairs.

She carried her own bags across the hall to her apartment just as I knelt to wrestle my boy into a clean Pull-Up.

Yes, he still wore them. He’d figure out the whole potty-training thing in his own time.

Our life wasn’t easy—far from it—but it was ours, and I loved it.

The delays didn’t define him. Okay, maybe they did cost me a small fortune in therapy bills every month, but he was worth every penny.

After dealing with the Pull-Up and washing my hands, I headed into the kitchen to start prepping the lasagna.

Mrs. Grazia found me wrist-deep in mushroom scrubbing when she wandered in.

Without missing a beat, she grabbed a pot, filled it with water, and set it on the stove for the noodles.

Then she moved on to rinsing the spinach like we’d done this dance a hundred times.

I popped open the can of pumpkin, scooped it into the saucepan, and stirred in some veggie broth and heavy cream until it looked just right.

A few shakes of seasoning later, the sauce started to smell like comfort itself.

While the sauce simmered on the stovetop, I grated the cheese and Mrs. Grazia drained the noodles.

I moved on to sautéing the mushrooms, spinach, and onions, the kitchen filling with warmth and scent to make anyone’s mouth water.

We moved like clockwork. Fluid and practiced, a real team effort.

Benny sat content on the floor, very much out of the way, lost in his own little world with a herd of plastic horses.

Layer by layer—sauce, noodles, veggies, cheese—I built the lasagna.

Then again. And again, until every last ingredient was used and the dish was tucked into the oven to bake.

I poured large glasses of iced tea for Mrs. Grazia and myself, filled Benny’s sippy cup, and we all made our way to the living room to sit and wait while the house slowly filled with the promise of dinner.

Mrs. Grazia dropped down into the big, fluffy wingback chair next to my sofa. “So are we going to talk about that scene earlier?” she asked, totally blindsiding me.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t play that game, Bree. I’ve been waiting for you to say something. Now I’m tired of waiting.”

“I… We…” What did I say to this woman? I loved her like family. She didn’t need to hear the gory details of my utter humiliation.

“He completely disrespected you today. Why? Did you know he’d be there?”

Sighing, I shook my head. “No. I had no idea.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“We…” Talk about compounding my humiliation. “Had relations,” I finished and she chuckled.

“I gathered.”

“We aren’t dating.” Tears pricked my eyes again and to my surprise, Mrs. Grazia reached over to squeeze my hand.

“Do you think Mr. Grazia was the only man I ever had relations with in my life? The man was lucky I agreed to marry him. In the ’70s, we gained the pill and a whole lot of sexual freedom.”

I choked on my saliva. “You what?”

“You look at me and see an old woman. I wasn’t always old, Bree. I was beautiful and liberated. Mr. Grazia just happened to be the best man I’d ever met—at everything .” She smirked, winking.

“We know each other from work. He plays for the Copperheads. Maybe I caught him off guard? But given that we do talk casually at work, I never expected that reaction from him. How could I?”

“What now, then?” she asked.

“What now is that the one time we had will be the only time.” I was serious about that point but didn’t have the heart to admit my sheer stupidity concerning the entire situation.

The idea that I’d so readily agreed to a benefits-only arrangement with the man burned.

Yes, we talked at work, but it was usually antagonistic, and for a big dick, tight ass, and pretty face, I’d folded like a bad hand of poker.

Luckily, the timer on the oven pinged. “Let me just go get that.”

“Saved by the bell,” Mrs. Grazia muttered under her breath while snickering at my less-than-subtle exit from the room and the conversation.

My stomach grumbled and my mouth watered.

I pulled the glass dish from the oven, setting it on the burner to cool.

While it rested, I threw together a salad for us.

To give myself a little more time before having to deal with Mrs. Grazia’s questions, I set a place with a plate and fork for each of us and a knife for me and Mrs. Grazia.

Then I moved the lasagna and salad to the table and set out the dressing before calling them to eat.

Mostly, Benny used his fingers to pick up the pieces of food from his plate. I still tried to encourage him to use a fork, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. Just another thing he’d get eventually.

Now, I wouldn’t pretend to be Julia Child in the kitchen, but the things I knew how to make, I made well. And this— chef’s kiss . I groaned from my first bite.

“I have an appointment on Tuesday for a new school for Benny. His therapist thinks he’d do better there. It’s full day, Monday through Friday. School and therapy.”

“Is there a reason you’re considering changing?”

I set my fork down. “Well, we basically got fired. I was told that with the new issues, they don’t think they can help Benny as well as this new place can. If he isn’t accepted, then they’ll try to figure something out.”

“When it rains, it pours.”

“No truer words,” I answered. We went on like that with light conversation. She thankfully decided to take pity on me and not revisit the whole Reece debacle.

After the best lasagna in the world and those delicious cream puffs from the store, I cleaned up from dinner and walked Benny across the hallway to Mrs. Grazia’s place.

“Be good for Mrs. Grazia, buddy.” I drew him into a giant bear hug. He kissed my cheek. I peppered his with as many as I could fit in before having to leave, then I stood, taking Mrs. Grazia’s arm. “Thank you, you know. For everything.”

She nodded, smiling as I walked away.

Another day. Another dollar.