James’s eyes narrow, flicking between us. “I didn’t realize you had a trainer.”
“There’s a lot you don’t realize.”
“Evelyn, please,” he begs. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. Just please give me five minutes to talk to you. To explain without our attorneys.”
I look between them, two people who clearly still have unresolved feelings beneath the anger and betrayal. As a romance writer, I want to help fix this, whatever it is, but this isn’t my novel to write. Still, I can’t help noting the tension between them, the history evident in every clipped word. This is the kind of emotional complexity I try to capture in my books—the way past love can curdle into something sharp and defensive. But there could be a possibility of reconciliation.
I clear my throat. “I should grab some water. Evelyn, I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” These two need to talk without an audience.
Thankfully, she nods gratefully, and I retreat to the water fountain, still close enough to keep an eye on them but far enough to give them privacy. Their conversation continues, their postures increasingly relaxing as they speak in hushed tones. I’m not trying to eavesdrop, but I catch fragments—something about intellectual property, a company called Prometheus, and what sounds like a betrayal of trust that extends beyond business.
After a few minutes, James checks his watch and reluctantly backs away but doesn’t leave. Okay, that’s my cue. I can see thesetwo need some guidance—giving unsolicited advice about love and reconnecting is my specialty. Axel and Grayson said that.
I approach the two cautiously. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” Evelyn says, though her tight smile suggests otherwise. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” I look between them. “I’m always happy to help strangers in need.”
James gives me a look that suggests he’s still trying to figure out my role in Evelyn’s life. “I appreciate you giving us a moment.”
“James was just leaving,” Evelyn snaps, though I notice her posture has softened slightly.
“Actually, I was wondering if you two might want some perspective from someone who makes a living studying relationships?”
They both turn to me with identical expressions of confusion.
“I’m a romance author,” I explain, feeling slightly ridiculous. “I spend my days analyzing why people connect and disconnect. Sometimes an outside perspective helps.”
James raises an eyebrow. “A romance author?”
“Wait Aaron… as intheAaron Singleton,” Evelyn blurts out. “Wait, you wroteBetween the Lines?”
I nod, surprised. “You’ve read my work?”
“I devoured it during a business trip to Tokyo last year.” She looks at me with new interest. “Your portrayal of miscommunication between the characters was uncomfortably accurate.”
James shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable with this turn in conversation. “I should go.”
“Maybe you should stay,” I suggest gently. “Whatever’s happening between you two seems important.”
“It’s complicated,” they say in unison, then look at each other with startled expressions.
I can’t help but smile. “That’s usually where the best stories start.”
Evelyn hesitates, then sighs. “We co-founded a company. Built it from nothing. Then…” She trails off.
“Then I made a mistake,” James finishes quietly. “A business decision that felt right but hurt Evelyn deeply.”
“And you were married?” I guess, noticing the faint line on Evelyn’s ring finger.
“We still are, currently going through a divorce,” Evelyn corrects me, sadly.
“Look.” I check my watch. “I’m meeting someone important tonight, and I need to prepare. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from writing about second chances, it’s that pride is often the biggest barrier to healing.”
James looks at Evelyn with unmistakable longing. “I’ve been trying to say that for months.”
“And I’ve been too angry to listen,” she admits softly.
