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“You remember the money. How suddenly everything got paid off. You asked me a hundred times where it came from.”

“You told me it was the bank. A loan.”

I shake my head. “It wasn’t the bank. It was Leah.”

His face stills.

“Leah? The ex-wife who left you with a shattered leg and an empty home?”

“She showed up six weeks after Della left. Said she could help. That she had a massive real estate project and needed a contractor. She’d cover everything—debts, payroll, the whole thing.”

David’s voice sharpens. “At what cost?”

I look away. “Della.”

The room drops a degree.

“Jesus, Dorian.”

“She said if I wanted the deal, I needed to be all-in, no distractions. No ties. No wasted time searching for Della.”

David leans back like he’s been punched. “And you never told me.”

“I was drowning, Dave. She threw me a rope. A poisonous one, yeah—but I took it. And hated myself for it every day since.”

I pause, the words catching in my throat.

More to myself than to him, I add “She even showed me pictures.”

He shakes his head.

“All this time, I thought you took some shady loan.”

I shrug bitterly.

“I paid every damn cent back in two years. But it didn’t matter. By then, it was too late. Damage done.”

I down the rest of the whiskey in one swallow. It burns, but it’s not enough. Not enough to erase the image of her in someone else’s arms.

I close my eyes. But it’s still there.

Her body. That dress. The emptiness in her eyes. Like I’d already lost her twice.

My mind spins, dragged backward—pulled into the memory I never stopped carrying. Back to when I first saw her.

* * *

5 years ago

I hadn’t even wanted to go out that night. David had dragged me to Excalibur.

“You need air, Dorian. A drink. A night without numbers and bricks and bank notices.”

We had just lost a major investor for a suburban development outside Northfield. Tensions were high. Money was tight. I had limped out of a four-hour meeting with my lawyer, then spent another two standing in the middle of a half-gutted construction site, arguing over permits and concrete.

I had not much left. Not broke. But drained.

And then—there she was.