Yes, just a courtesy.
“Victoria.” He kept his voice low and even. “What’s going on?”
Her eyes filled again. “I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.”
Mathew frowned. “What do you mean?”
She twisted the napkin in her lap until it nearly tore. “I should never have let you walk away. I complained far too much and I…”
His pulse kicked hard once, then went oddly cold.
During the divorce, they’d been civil. Controlled. Not once had she fought for him to stay. Not once had she reached forhim like this. She’d hired the best lawyer she could, kept the apartment, protected her trust, and made sure she landed on her feet. He’d signed what needed signing because he’d wanted the whole thing over.
And now this?
“What?” he said, quieter this time.
A sob caught in her throat, and a few heads turned. Mathew leaned forward instinctively, lowering his voice even more. “Victoria. Breathe.”
She nodded, dabbed at her eyes, and forced a sad smile. “We were good once, weren’t we?”
For a second, memory tried to answer for him.
They had been. Once.
But once had not been enough to save them.
Victoria reached across the table and set her hand over his. “I’ve been thinking about us. About the way things were before.”
He didn’t want to hear this. As much as Mathew didn’t want to admit it, there was still a sliver of his heart that had refused to believe his first marriage was a complete failure. That sliver was to blame whenever he got nostalgic and thought about the good times they’d once had.
But that sliver had been suspiciously quiet ever since River entered his life.
River.
Mathew looked down at her hand, then gently but firmly pulled his away as he shook his head. “No, Victoria.”
Hurt flashed across her face. “But you have to admit?—”
“I don’t have to admit anything.” His voice stayed calm, but the steel in it surprised even him. “We weren’t good together. Not in the way that mattered.”
Her mouth trembled. “But we could be now.”
He shook his head again. “I’m not the man I was when I married you. I’ve changed.”
“I can tell. And I’ve changed too. Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves?—”
“The only thing I owe you is the check I sign every month.”
Victoria flinched again, but this time he held his ground.
“I don’t know what you expected, blindsiding me like this, but it isn’t going to work. I’ll always care about you. I can’t just turn that side of myself off. But I don’t love you anymore. Not like that.”
Victoria flinched, and this time he made himself hold the line.
Slowly, he stood. “I need to go.”
He had barely made it outside before she followed him.
