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His eyes narrow to slits. Not angry. Just… pensive.

“He was having an affair?”

“In the most technical sense.” I shrug. “I suppose. We were friends at the core, and respect for each other and Franky’s best wishes were paramount in every decision we made.

Colin and Tasha are getting serious now, and Mom asked us to come back to Plainview.

I guess the stars aligned, so here we are. ”

“The dude is having an affair, and you’re totally cool with that?” He tilts backward and floats for a moment, chuckling quietly under his breath. “Not the Alana I remember. That girl would tear a man’s balls clear off his body for looking anywhere but at her.”

“The Alana you remember was young and immature. Her emotions had not yet stabilized, her impulse control was lacking, and she suffered from crippling self-esteem due to her mother’s tendency of discarding her on a whim.

That Alana needed someone to love her, and the thought of losing that person was a special kind of torture.

That Alana felt the need to claim ownership over another human being, all so she would never feel discarded again. ”

“Big words.” His lips twitch with a playful smile.

“Sounds to me like you’ve spent a great deal of time inside a therapist’s office since we last hung out.

Self-esteem,” he repeats in a murmur. “Discard.” He straightens out and captures me with his all-seeing eyes.

“You ran away from me and landed on a therapist’s couch?

” And just like that, his expression turns sour.

“Colin is not a therapist, is he? Because fucking your patient is professional misconduct to the worst degree.”

“Colin is not a therapist. And though I did, in fact, seek out professional help in New York, I didn’t fuck them.

” I meet his attitude with one of my own.

“But since we’re discussing conquests and ownership, you’ll be happy to know those fight magazines that flash your face all over the front cover, they’re on New York newsstands, too.

I stopped counting after the sixth or seventh different woman on your arm. ”

“Mmm. But you counted.” His lips peel back into a cruel smirk.

“I always wondered if you thought about me. Turned me on, thinking of you out in New York, watching me fight in secret. It would have been like sneaking porn, right? Shameful. Something to be sly about. You couldn’t make it a family thing since Colin was sure to ask why you were so interested in this one guy’s fights all the time.

So you had to settle for the tiny screen of your phone while you sat in your closet and touched yourself. ”

Hatred blooms in my chest and spreads like wildfire, burning me up and leaving my heart pounding with an aching staccato. “Not only is that entirely untrue, but you’re being crass and rude and ridiculously inappropriate, too. With my son in the water?”

“He can’t hear us.”

“And your cute little girlfriend?” Fuck you, Eliza Darling. If I knew back then what I know now, I might’ve stomped on the twelve-year-old and made sure she knew where not to step. “You disrespect her by speaking to me that way.”

He spares a fast glance across the lake, but even I know she’s moved on to annoying Oliver. She’s given up on the anger directed my way—for now. Smirking, Tommy brings his blistering eyes back to me. “Nice try, Page. But only one of us is married.”

“And one of us migrated from the fight magazines to the gossip rags. ‘ Who is Tommy Watkins dating this week ?’ ‘ Hearts break as supermodel Catarina Dana is seen out, alone, this New Year’s Eve.’ Geez,” I sneer.

“Forgive me for assuming your rage is a load of shit. You had no trouble crawling out of your hole of despair to make a red carpet appearance.”

“And you married the first douchebag you met after arriving in New York! It’s like you got off the bus with a pin the tail game. You didn’t even care where you landed. You found your donkey and hitched your wagon without a single glance back. ”

“Better I marry one douchebag—who is not a douchebag, by the way—than fuck every blonde who fits into a size two backless gown. You act like I’m the monster here, but it looks like you easily found someone else to stroke your hair to sleep.”

“You have no clue what the fuck I’ve been doing these last ten years.

” He grabs my wrist and yanks me in until our chests clash, his breath hitting my chin and his rage sizzling in the air.

“Anyone with half a fucking brain knows gossip rags are no more reliable than the grapevines stretching across Plainview. Barbara to Bitsy, Betty to Paul. If I were to believe the shit that came out of their mouths, then I’d ask who you fucked the week of our high school graduation.

Especially since your son told me he has a January birthday.

From where I’m standing, it looks to me like you slipped and fell onto someone else’s cock, and instead of telling me what you’d done, too afraid to be honest, you busted out of town and ran away from accountability. ”

He squeezes tighter. Tighter. And stares down into my eyes.

“The Alana I knew was loyal to a fault, and dammit, she was in love with me . Even if you left. Even if you won’t answer my fucking questions.

There isn’t a guy in this town or the next that would have tempted you.

So despite the math breaking my heart, I’m gonna hope with everything in me that Franky was a ridiculously premature baby, and Barbara’s brother’s friend’s wife doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.

While I’m doing that, I suggest you reread those gossip magazines and consider giving me the same benefit of the doubt. ”

He releases me with a huff, pushing me back and turning over in the water, and then he swims away.

Which is a blessing, really, that he left.

Because fresh tears fill my eyes, and pain steals my breath.

It’s like I have an anvil on my chest and a bubble in my throat, disallowing even an iota of new oxygen to trickle into my lungs.

But the beauty, I realize now, of swimming in the lake when you have a broken heart is that you can fall beneath the surface once more, and no one will ever know you’ve been crying.