“Don’t be. You’re allowed to be angry.”
I meet his eyes. “I’m not angry.”
He gives me a look that says, ‘Sure, and I’m the Queen of England.’
“It’s just… a bit too much for me right now,” I add quietly.
He nods. “I get it. And I know you hate talking about him. But seriously, are you okay?”
I pause, unsure how to answer. My first instinct is to lie, to say I’m fine, maybe even force a smile like it doesn’t sting anymore. To act like it’s just another interview, like it’s no big deal. But the words just don’t come. Because I can lie to the world, even to myself, but never to Mick. He’s not just my roommate, he’s my best friend.
Mick is the first real friend I made after the divorce. We met at a coffee shop, both of us not wanting to be alone. I had just signed the papers, and he had just come out of a relationship. That day, we poured our hearts out like strangers who somehow already connected with each other. I told him about my marriage… how I gave it my all, only to be left like a villain in my own story. And he told me about his ex who cheated on him. Maybe that’s why our friendship began so naturally, because we both understood the kind of pain that comes from someone you once loved and trusted.
In fact, when we both admitted we needed a fresh start, he was the one who suggested we rent an apartment together. We talked about it half-seriously, half-lost in the moment. Honestly, I thought we’d laugh it off the next day. But when he showed up on my doorstep with a list of apartments and the names of brokers he’d already spoken to… that’s when I realized it made sense. I didn’t want to come home to an empty, lonely house. I didn’t need space. What I needed was a friend. Someone who would just be there for me.
I huff. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now.”
“You’d better make damn sure he regrets ever letting you walk away.”
“That’s the plan,” I say, lifting my chin.
That makes him grin. “That’s my girl.”
I snort, rolling my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips.
“I know you’re going to hate me for saying this,” he says, putting on a mock-serious expression, “but your ex-husband is a total smoke show. I don’t know how you’re going to get through the interview without losing your panties.”
I throw a dish towel at him, and he ducks, laughing.
“You seriously need help,” I groan, but my heart and mind, the traitors they are, obviously agree with him. Even if I don’t want to admit it, I’ve seen enough of Landon’s photos floating around the internet over the years. Magazine covers. The goddamn paparazzi shots. The man hasn’t aged a day. If anything, he’s only gotten hotter.
“You’d better dress to kill. Make it impossible for him to focus on anything except the thought of undressing you.”
I cover my face with my hands. “God, please shut up.”
He just chuckles and holds his hands up. “Okay, okay, I’m done. But just so you know, I’m proud of you for doing this… for not backing out.”
I offer a small, grateful smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach my eyes but still says more than words ever could. “I wanted to do this.”
“And that’s what makes you braver than him.”
I glance down at my mug, the coffee now cold. “He’s the one who set up this interview… and he specifically requested me.”
Mick lets out a curse and adds, “The audacity.”
I look up at him. “I don’t even know what he’s trying to play at.”
“It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, he won’t win.” Mick walks over and squeezes my shoulder in comfort. “Because you walking into that house with your head held high, showing him he’s nothing more than a ghost from your past… that’s your biggest win. And he will always be the man who was too much of a coward to hold on to the best thing he ever had.”
There’s a beat before I whisper, “I wonder if he’d agree with that.”
“Oh, sweetheart, he will the moment he sees you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
His expression softens, a hint of worry visible in his eyes. “Will you tell him?”
I know exactly what he’s asking, and I sure as hell have thought about it. But even the thought of Landon uncovering my secret is enough to make my nerves unravel.
