"Please don't," she said gently, "try to fight anyone. Especially him."
Pops rolled his eyes, but the storm in them hadn't abated. "I'll do what I have to, Tiny. You got out of that marriage a shellof yourself and built yourself back up. I'm proud of you for that. Don't let him or anyone else drag you back into his mess."
"I'm not letting him, Pops. I promise."
He watched her for a long minute, suspicion and worry see-sawing across his face. "You're sure this isn't upsetting you?"
She lied with the skill of a woman who'd grown up in foster and group homes where lying was a skill one needed for survival. "It doesn't bother me." She forced a smile, choosing to believe it was only halfway fraudulent. "He has nothing to do with the life I’ve built here. I’m just glad you’re feeling better."
But Pops was Pops, and he could see through a cinderblock wall if he thought his girl was in trouble. "You're a good actress, Tiny, but I know when you're hurting. That boy—" He shook his head, as if the memory was a wasp he could never quite swat. "He never deserved you. Never."
Tiana felt her defenses wobble, but she held them up. "Let’s not waste any more time or energy on him. He’s stolen enough of that."
As if on cue, a soft knock announced the arrival of another nurse, Julie, she wore bright pink sneakers and held a clipboard decorated with stickers of sunflowers. "Mr. Matthews, I’m here to do your checks," she said, her voice all bubbles and rainbows. She gave Tiana a sideways glance and beamed. "Tiana, you know, everyone’s talking about how you and Niko Costas are the cutest couple in town."
Tiana nearly choked. "Oh, we’re not?—"
The nurse, oblivious, snapped on a blood pressure cuff and began taking Pops’ vitals. "He’s such a looker," she said confidentially. "And he always brings us cinnamon rolls from the bakery whenever he’s in town. A keeper, that one."
Pops shifted in the bed, his eyes narrowing. "Is that so?" he asked, voice oily with skepticism.
Tiana felt her face burning, the lie growing legs and learning to run. She locked eyes with Pops, silently pleading for patience. "It’s not serious," she muttered, wishing she could disappear into the linoleum.
Julie finished with her tasks and smiled brightly as she recorded the numbers. "Well, if you ask me, it’s about time you had some fun. You deserve it after all you’ve been through." She left with the buoyancy of someone who had never had a day ruined by rumor or regret.
That was one of the worst parts of having a high-profile divorce. Everyone knew what you’ve “been through.” Or at least they thought they did.
Tiana waited until the footsteps receded before she addressed the new wildfire in Pops' eyes. "It’s not real, it’s fake." She shrugged unconvincingly.
"A fake relationship?" Pops didn’t blink. “That’s the story you’re tryin’ to sell me?”
"It’s the truth."
He took a long, rattling breath. "Well, I s’pose you could do worse," he admitted, grudgingly, as he grabbed the remote control, indicating this chit-chat session was over.
Getting Pops’ approval, even for a fake relationship, was actually pretty meaningful to Tiana. He didn’t just hand those out. He’d never handed one out before, not that he’d had that many opportunities to. She’d only had a handful of boyfriends before Brock, and Pops wasn’t a fan of any of them.
They sat together in comfortable silence watching Dateline until Pops started ‘resting his eyes’ again, and Tiana stood and slipped out quietly.
She hoped Brock knew better than to visit Golden Years. She wished she could say he did, but knowing him, he might just show up. She decided to stop by and make sure that Cindy knew he, and sadly, any members of his family were not on theapproved visitors list. A surprise visit from an unwanted guest was the last thing Pops’ heart, or hers for that matter, needed. The difference was she could survive it, he might not.
9
“Put in corner!”Yaya instructed.
Niko had spent the morning after his run helping Yaya move into her new home. It was still hard for him to believe she’d left the three-bedroom craftsman she’d shared with his grandfather for sixty-plus years to live in the one bedroom cottage next door to the Golden Years Assisted Living home where her new husband had been a resident. Thankfully, the house was staying in the family. His grandparents had gifted it to his brother AJ, who was renting it out to the woman who had helped raise his fiancée. As Niko walked through the cozy cottage, he was impressed to see the octogenarian newlyweds were settling in quite nicely. He attributed most of that ease of transition to Arthur Santino allowing his new bride to have complete control over any decor decisions, and the only thing he required was a place to store his Navy mug for coffee and a single drawer for his clothing.
He brought in the final box of knickknacks and sat it down beside the built-in bookshelves, as instructed, when something caught his attention at the edge of his vision through the frosted window of the cottage. The movement drew his gaze like a tugon a marionette’s string. He squinted through the cloudy glass, first seeing nothing but glare off the slush-packed walk. And then, as if he’d conjured her from sheer will, there she was, Tiana Marie Matthews, face tilted against the wind, stride purposeful, hair the color of burnished chestnut streaming out behind her in ribboned curls, eyes cast downward and bracing against the November air.
For a moment Niko simply stood there, chest aching at the sight. He’d always known she was beautiful, but in that instant—shoulders squared, lips bright red and full, her frame outlined stark against the gray day—she was so alive it made his whole body ache. He was powerless to stop himself from staring like a schoolboy mooning over his first crush. The world outside seemed to slow down to a single, flickering pulse.
He realized too late that Yaya, mittens clutched around the handle of a battered tea kettle, was watching him watch her. The woman may be in her nineties, but she missed nothing. She nudged him, lips puckering with mischief.
“She is very nice girl. Better than the piranhas always hanging around, asking for photo with you.” She gave his arm a squeeze, her grip surprisingly strong for a woman her age. “Go, go, go. You come back and unpack later.”
He bent to kiss Yaya’s cheek, she smelled of Vicks, lemon soap, and fresh basil. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Yaya,” he promised, and bolted for the door, nearly slipping on the first step as he hurried after Tiana.
He caught up with her at the edge of the Golden Years property on a stone path towards the river.
