That one stung.
But she wasn’t wrong.
Precious pushed back her chair, eyes narrowing.
“Don’t flatter yourself. The list’s longer than that.”
“Wait—what’s that supposed to mean?” I kept my tone easy. Didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. She’d leave. She always did. And yeah—she always came back.
“You know damn well what it means.”
Then she turned to Willa.
“If I were you, I’d rethink the whole wedding thing.”
Willa choked on her coffee, coughing between laughs.
“Noted.”
Precious grabbed her coat, flung it over her shoulder like a cape.
“You can keep the dish. No need to return it.”
“You mean… like a wedding gift?” I said, deadpan.
The door slammed behind her so hard the pie wobbled on the plate.
“Uh… that was intense.”
Willa raised an eyebrow.
“So. Hope, huh?”
Shit. Heat rose up my neck.
“Yeah. Might’ve left out a tiny detail.”
“A detail? And what about pie girl?”
“Okay. Two details. Maybe.”
She sipped her coffee, dead serious.
“And what about your daughter?”
I froze. For a second I genuinely wondered if I’d slipped on the piss-soaked bathroom floor earlier and gone into a coma. Or maybe a tsetse fly bit me in my sleep and I’d hallucinated all of this.
I ran through every name I could think of. Far as I knew, none of my exes had gifted me with a surprise offspring.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She crossed her arms, all mock attitude—though honestly, I wouldn’t blame her. She shows up here and meets more of my exes than the number of idiots who bet against her at the bar.
“I don’t have a kid. And I can pretty much guarantee you won’t be running into any more of my exes today.”
“Pretty much?”
“I try to only make promises I canmostlykeep.”
