The door opens and I shoot to my feet.
“Santa’s almost here!” Monty sings as she dances into the living room. Her face drops when she sees my expression. “What’s happened?”
For a moment, I debate demanding to know where she’s been, but then I realize it’s none of my damn business.
I’m also not gonna sound like a disgruntled husband by pointing out that I cooked for her and she wasn’t here to eat it. Or that she didn’t even have the courtesy to let me know her shopping trip would take nearly eight fucking hours.
So, I simply fold my arms. “Nothing. Your dinner is in the microwave.”
She slaps her forehead. “Oh my God, dinner! I totally forgot! I’m so sorry. The gift took longer than I thought.”
I shrug. “It’s fine.”
It’s not. I made crappy pasta, but I still made it.
God, I need to grow up.
“You’re mad at me.” She slinks over to me, an unfamiliar blue scarf wrapped around her throat.
And she smells like cologne.
Fuck.
That’s where she’s been.
With a man.
My gut sours. But what did I expect? She’s a young woman, she’s attractive; why wouldn’t she be having sex and plenty of it? Good for her.
Good for fucking her.
“Do you want your gift?” she asks, beaming up at me. “I promise you’re gonna love it. Just … close your eyes.”
I arch a brow. “I don’t think I trust you enough.”
She swats my arm. “Just close your eyes and wait here!”
Sighing, I do as she says. I hear the front door open, and a few seconds later, the sound of conversation.
I open my eyes, and Monty is in front of me—and so are three of my work friends. Winston, Alicia, and Christopher. Alicia is in Internal Affairs now, so we keep in touch as often as we can, but she’s snowed under, especially since I gave her the hard drive. Since the world believes Ella is dead, I was able to get from under the thumb of Ranger Luxe. Hecould no longer hold her life over me, so I handed over the hard drive to Alicia, and when Ranger called, I promptly told him to go fuck himself. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but it felt good.
Christopher is still a beat cop and says he’ll never want to be anything else. We all started at the academy together, but it’s been years since we’ve done something socially. They’re holding bags, beers, and are grinning at me from the door.
“What’s … happening?” I ask, glancing at Monty.
“Poker night!” She says excitedly. “I thought it’d be fun for you to have some friends over.”
“Your girl texted us from your phone pretending to be you. She’s sneaky,” Winston says, placing the bags on the kitchen island. “Did you clean up all the blood? I’m not making my famous guac on a dirty counter.”
As my friends get to work setting up a makeshift poker table in the dining area, Monty dances over to me. “Are you happy?”
I nod, unused to the sudden busyness of my home. Lively conversation, food being cooked, laughter … it feels like life has been breathed back into a building that died when Ella left.
But despite that, I’m aware that socializing means talking. Questions being asked.
Questions about why I took leave.
“Yeah, just … a little surprised. How did you even access my phone?”
