“I’m sorry,” he manages hoarsely. “She what?”
I calmly pick up a mozzarella bite. “Congrats,” I say dryly. “You really won in the wife department.”
A small, bitter laugh slips out of me as he wipes the drink up. “My dad did the right thing by leaving her.” What I don't understand is how Elijah, who was my dad's best friend, could do something like that to him.
His jaw tightens, lips pressing into a thin line.
“She’s my ex-wife.”
“Wait—what?” I stare at him, the words not quite landing. “That doesn't… that doesn't make sense.”
Elijah leans back in his seat, one arm draped over the empty seat next to him. “It does,” he replies quietly. “Think about it. Have you actually seen us together since you moved in?”
I open my mouth, then stop. He has a point; they haven't been together. He's spent most of his time with me.
“No,” I admit. “But you went away together.”
A muscle in his cheek tightens. “Believe me, it was a shit holiday.”
“Then why is she still living there?”
This time, he doesn't answer me straight away. He reaches for his drink, turns the cup slowly between his hands, before finally meeting my eyes. “River doesn't know. And legally, we’re still married; she just won't sign the papers.”
Of course, she won't.
I nod once, more to myself than him, and brush my thumb over a loose thread on my sleeve. “Can I ask why you're divorced?”
“You can, and I might just give you an answer.”
I shoot him an unimpressed look, and his mouth twitches, holding back a smug grin. “I realised I hadn't loved her for a long time.” His jaw sets. “And she cheated.”
The words land heavily.
My shoulders stiffen before I can stop myself.
“I know,” he adds, watching the reaction I try to hide. “You're probably thinking I deserved it.”
I glance down, press my lips together, then look back up. “Maybe… a little.”
That earns a quiet huff of a laugh. He nudges my foot with his under the table. “I deserved that.”
His expression shifts, the humour draining away. “Just don't tell River yet.”
I hesitate. “You're asking me to lie to him.”
“No.” He immediately shakes his head. “I’m asking you to wait. I need to be the one to tell him. Rose doesn’t want him to know, and she doesn’t even want the divorce.”
I sink back in my seat as I think it over. I can see how much this eats at him—how unnatural it feels for him to keep anything from his son.
I never kept anything from mine.
“Okay, I won't say anything.”
“Thank you. I owe you.”
I meet his eyes, a small smile pulling at my lips. “You do. And I will never forget.”
We finish our meal in a comfortable silence, one that feels natural rather than awkward. As we make our way home, a wave of exhaustion wraps around me like a cosy blanket. For the first time in what feels like ages, I drift off into a deep, restful sleep.
