“Why don’t you go to that place two blocks over that does good coffee? I’m afraid I’ve run out.”
His eyes meet mine for a brief moment, and I swallow, my voice stolen from me at how business-like he’s being.
How devoid of emotion.
I nod mutely, looking at the floor.
“Hallie?”
I snap my eyes back to his, hope burning in my throat.
“It’s okay, we’ll speak later.”
His eyes darken, then his gaze leaves mine, taking the air in my lungs with it. He’s dismissing me. He won’t even hear me out. Won’t let me explain.
I stare at him while he sips his coffee, his eyes back on Rory. What was last night about? He said he loved me. I told him I had fallen head over heels in love with him. Icriedwhile he was inside me because everything between us had felt so intense.
How can he switch off from that in the blink of an eye? All from one word?
Husband.
I know it’s a big word, but if he’d listen to me… If he’d let me speak…
Bile rises in my throat as he leans back against the counter, one ankle crossed over the over.
A picture of calm.
I knock past Rory and head straight for the door.
I need air.
“You look great.” Rory scans the top half of my body as I sit opposite him at a window table for two.
He reaches across the table for my hand, but I slide it away and wrap it around the mug of my untouched Americano instead. I keep my other hand beneath the table, a small piece of black onyx wrapped inside my palm. It’s a crystal that aids in strength and moving beyond bad relationships. I always keep a pouch of mixed crystals in my purse. You never know when time might call for one to assist you.
And I need all the help I can get for this conversation.
“Why are you here?”
He leans back with a smirk. “Is that any way to greet your husband?”
“You’ve never been my husband!” I snap. “That was a mistake, and you know it. I don’t even remember any of it.”
“Shame. I remember it all. Especially how eager you were to say, ‘I do’.”
I roll my eyes. I doubt that was the case, but the fact I was so drunk I can’t remember means I keep my mouth firmly shut. Rory can say whatever he likes about that night in Vegas and our so-called ‘marriage’. None of our friends who were out that night can fill me in, either. Apparently, Rory and I disappeared, and the next morning was the first they heard about our little visit to the walk-in chapel. I’m just glad I woke alone, with Rory on the couch of the hotel room and not in the bed with me. He confirmed we hadn’t…consummatedit. I called Sophie immediately in a wild panic, and she was already on our annulment before I’d dragged my aching, hungover body out of bed.
“Calm down, I’m only teasing,” Rory says, throwing his hands up in mock surrender when I glare at him.
“Yeah? Just teasing when you called yourself my husband in front of Sterling too, huh? You had no right.”
“Hey, I didn’t know you haven’t been honest with the old guy.” He leans across the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re not… You’re not actuallyfuckinghim, are you?”
“That’s none of your business!” I hiss. But my gut twists. He’s right. I should have been honest with Sterling sooner.
“Never had you down as a grave robber.”
“Will you shut up and tell me what you’re doing here?”
