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Victor swirled his milkshake, watching the whipped cream disappear into the chocolate below. “Barbara,” he started, then hesitated. “There’s something you should know.”

A thousand thoughts collided in my mind like billiard balls on a crowded table. I focused on Frankie, who sucked at his straw so hard that his milkshake burbled up over the rim, dribbling down the sides like a tiny chocolate volcano.

“Well?” I prompted, brushing a napkin over Frankie’s sticky fingers. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Victor looked up from his glass. “It’s Frank. And the other reason he came to see me today. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you because up until now, it’s been none of my business. But…”

My breath caught. “But?” My voice was thinner than I intended. “Does he know about us?”

Victor’s lips curved slightly, but there was no humor in it.

“Well, that would most definitely be my business.” He swirled his glass.

“And if he did, darling, I’d have had to scrape him off my office floor.

” He let out a short, dry chuckle. “But, no, I don’t think so.

He might suspect something, but if he knew for certain, I imagine he would’ve done something remarkably foolish. ”

Relief washed over me, loosening the knot in my chest—until Victor’s expression told me it wouldn’t last. “What then?”

“Did you know that I loaned Frank money several months ago?”

“I didn’t.” My tone was measured, my words deliberate.

“Didn’t think so. Anyway, he paid off the loan in full today.”

“How much money are we talking about?”

“Five thousand.”

I choked on the air.

Frankie looked up, his innocent eyes confused by my reaction. “Mama?”

“I’m fine,” I said, patting his head as I cleared my throat.

“Just surprised is all.” I coaxed him back to his milkshake and took a long sip of my own to soothe the sudden dryness in my throat.

The sweet treat tasted like chalk. I turned my gaze to Victor, studying his face, searching for his angle, his intent.

“What on earth did he need that kind of money for?”

Victor leaned back in the booth, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp. “Gambling debts. He was in pretty deep at the track.” He let that hang in the air a moment, watching my reaction.

I shook my head slowly. “I had no idea. He promised he’d stopped…”

Victor exhaled through his nose, the faintest trace of amusement in his expression. “Promises are easy to make. Harder to keep.”

“So, you bailed him out. That was very…generous of you.”

He looked up at me through his long lashes. “Not exactly. Frank pushed through the insurance payouts on a few properties for me. Made sure there were no delays, no complications. In return, I loaned him what he needed to clear his debts and have some breathing room.”

The new information sank in like spilled red wine on white carpet.

“Mama, all done,” Frankie declared, his milkshake reduced to a frothy residue at the bottom of the glass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the cream further across his cheek.

“Hold still, sweetheart,” I said, grabbing a napkin from the table. “Let me clean you up.”

As I tended to Frankie, my eyes flicked back to Victor. He watched us with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“So Frank is in the clear?” I asked, dabbing at Frankie’s face. “No more debts hanging over him?”

“Not from me. But that doesn’t mean he’s in the clear.” He paused, pressing his lips into a thin line. “There’s no way he came up with that sum on his own.”

“Then how…” I trailed off, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

He shrugged. “You know him better than I do.”

“Do I?”

Victor didn’t answer.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you deserve to know what’s going on with the people in your life.

” His voice was steady, but something lurked beneath the surface—something that made my chest tighten.

He leaned in across the table, his intense eyes stripping away whatever flimsy defenses I had left.

“I never want to be the one keeping you in the dark. Ever.”

My heart pounded in my ears. The hum of the ceiling fan and the clatter of dishes from the kitchen blurred into a single, dissonant note.

“The way Frank talked about you had me seeing red, Barbara.” Victor’s voice was taut with restrained anger.

“Like an ornament to be kept on a shelf. Like you’re not capable of thinking for yourself.

Maybe that would have flown in the last century, but not now.

” He shook his head vehemently. “No, not even then. It’s maddening, and you deserve so much more. ”

Victor slid his hand across the table, fingers just barely brushing mine. The warmth of his touch seeped into my skin.

Frankie fidgeted in his seat and tugged at my sleeve. “Mama, go now?” he whined, and I saw the tiredness in his eyes—the kind that follows a brief, unsustainable sugar high.

“In a minute, sweetheart,” I said, but my focus was locked on Victor. He had leaned back again, one arm draped over the booth, the picture of nonchalance—but his eyes told a different story. I fished a small wooden car out of my purse and handed it to Frankie.

“Vroom!” He ran the car along the edge of the table and around the empty milkshake glass.

Victor smiled. “He’s a car man. Like me.” The smile lingered as he watched Frankie, but when his eyes found mine again, his expression turned somber. “Barbara, I’m worried about you.”

The booth’s vinyl creaked as I shifted uncomfortably. “You’re worried about me?”

“About your home life.”

I started to protest, but Victor leaned in.

“Just hear me out.” His words were gentle but firm, cutting through my defenses before I could mount them.

“It’s no secret that I hate the way he treats you.

You deserve so much more. But Frank’s in trouble, and that means you’re in trouble too.

The way he spoke to me today—it wasn’t the voice of a man in control.

He was desperate. I have no idea how he came up with the money to pay me off, but I promise you it wasn’t from insurance commissions. ”

I swallowed hard, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

“My hands aren’t clean, Barbara, and I’d never claim otherwise. But I’m not the most dangerous fellow out there. I don’t know who owns Frank now, but…”

“But what?”

He reached across the table and took both my hands in his. “But when I owned him, you were never in danger. I can’t say that anymore.”

Victor’s hands were warm and firm around mine. I stared at his fingers—strong, capable.

“Barbara,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “You need to think about what you really want. Not just for now, but for the future. A future where you’re happy, where you’re safe, where you’re free.”

“Are you saying,” I began slowly, “that you think I should leave Frank?”

Victor’s eyes never wavered from mine. “I’m saying you should consider a future with someone who truly loves you, respects you, and has your best interests at heart.”

“You mean with you.”

Victor’s gaze was unwavering. “Yes.”

I pulled my hands away from his, and a rush of cool air filled the space between us. “A tryst is one thing, Victor. And don’t misunderstand—I wouldn’t give that up for anything.” I lowered my voice to a hush. “But you’re married too.”

“I’m handling it.”

I looked down at the chipped, worn enamel of the table and traced the cracks with my fingernail, avoiding Victor’s piercing gaze.

The silence between us was thick. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

My thoughts raced, colliding with each other in a chaotic tangle—Frank’s debts, Victor’s confession, the looming uncertainty.

“Say something, Barbara. Please.”

I looked up and took a measured breath, letting the air slowly fill my lungs. “It’s all a lot to take in, Victor.”

“Don’t you want a life with me?” His dark eyes bored into mine.

“More than anything.” The words were out of my mouth like a bullet before I could stop them—before I could even think. I clapped a hand over my mouth.

Victor’s eyes lit with a dangerous hope. My stomach twisted into a dozen sailors’ knots. How had we ended up here so quickly? Just weeks ago, the idea of an affair had been unthinkable, and now we were talking about futures and feelings that ran deeper than the bed sheets.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

My breath caught. This was real. He was making it real.

“My lawyer has already been working on my divorce from Dotty. I’m meeting him this afternoon to see how far he’s gotten.” He leaned in closer, his presence enveloping me, and took my hand into his own. “So you see”—he pressed his lips to my palm—“I’m all in, angel.”

“I don’t even know how to get started.”

Victor kissed my knuckles, lingering just long enough to send a shiver through me. “I’ll set you up with my lawyer. He and I go way back. We served together in France, and I trust him with my life.”

I blew out a shaky breath and nodded my assent.

“I’ll go take care of the check,” he said, standing tall with an air of determination. He paused before stepping away, locking eyes with me. “We can have it all, Barbara.”

He walked toward the front of the diner, his movements effortless, the confident stride of a man accustomed to winning. I traced the broad line of his shoulders with my eyes, then shifted my gaze to Frankie, now half-asleep in the booth, wooden car clutched loosely in his small hand.

I gathered our things slowly, deliberately.

The hum of the diner filtered back into my consciousness—the sizzle of the griddle, the muted murmur of voices in the main dining room, the tinny notes of the jukebox up front.

Everything felt surreal—like waking from a vivid dream only to find yourself in another.

Victor returned and stood beside the booth. He looked down at me with dark, intense eyes. “Let me drive you home.”

I went to protest, but it was clear that he wasn’t asking. I nodded and turned to Frankie, gently coaxing him awake. Victor knelt so he was at eye level with my drowsy little boy.

“Would you like to ride in my car?”

Frankie’s face brightened, his tired eyes sparking back to life. He enthusiastically nodded his head, his straw-blond hair bouncing with every move. “What color?” Frankie asked.

“Blue,” Victor answered, looking up at me. “I drove the Jaguar today.”

Frankie, fully awake now, latched on to Victor’s hand and tugged him toward the swinging door. “Come on!”

Victor chuckled, a rare, unguarded smile spreading across his face as he followed, willingly strung along by an eager little boy who had already decided he was a friend.