Page 12 of Always Almost You

“There was someone else with you on Thanksgiving,” Lauren said calmly. “And you clearly weren’t worried about making her sick.”

He tilted his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The car in your driveway.”

“You mean my sister?” He straightened, indignant. “Have you been spying on me like a teenager stalking her boyfriend?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I made you a plate of food and drove to your house to drop it off. I planned to text you after I left it by the door.”

“Oh. I didn’t find anything. And I never got a text.”

“No,” Lauren replied. “You didn’t. Because I didn’t leave it.” She held his gaze. “And if the woman I saw you kissing was your sister, then you’ve got far bigger problems than I realized.”

The color drained from Darren’s face. “You⁠—”

“I saw everything,” Lauren said. “And that woman was not your sister.”

He looked down, swallowed, then lifted his head. “I owe you the truth.”

Lauren gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.

“That was a woman I dated before you,” he said. “I broke it off before you and I got serious. She called me Thanksgiving morning. Her mother had died. She was devastated and asked if she could come over. I didn’t have the heart to say no. She didn’t know about you, and it felt cruel to tell her then.” His eyes searched Lauren’s face, hopeful.

Lauren stepped to the side and made a show of studying his profile. “Is your nose okay?” she asked.

He blinked. “What?”

“I can see it growing from here,” she said lightly, her tone cool. “Pinocchio would be impressed.”

He frowned. “You don’t believe me.”

“Of course I don’t.” Lauren threw up her hands. “That story is complete nonsense. I’m amazed you thought I’d be foolish enough to believe that explanation.” She tugged gently on Pumpkin’s leash and stepped past him.

“That’s it?” Darren asked. “You’re breaking up with me?”

Lauren turned back, composed. “Yes. I am.”

“You’re just throwing away what we had?” he insisted.

“You still don’t get it,” Lauren said, her voice rising just a notch. “I was happily married. I know what makes a real, loving relationship: honesty, integrity, and trust. We clearly don’t have that, and I won’t settle for less.” She turned her back on him and walked toward her car.

“You’ll change your mind,” Darren called after her. “You’ll calm down and call me in a couple of days.”

Lauren unlocked her door and stepped aside to allow Pumpkin to jump in.

Pumpkin turned, fixed Darren with a low growl, bared her teeth, and then hopped into the car.

“Pumpkin never liked you,” Lauren called over her shoulder. “That should’ve told me everything.”

She got in, shut the door, and drove away, leaving Darren standing alone in the lot, staring after her retreating taillights.

CHAPTER 9

Mike arrived at his office before eight. If he was going to keep his promise to his mother and spend uninterrupted time with his family when he went home for Christmas, he’d need to work fourteen-hour days until he boarded the plane Sunday morning. He brewed himself a cup of coffee and settled behind his desk, determined to clear his inbox before the rest of the city woke up.

The first email was from the non-profit organization he’d been volunteering with to rebuild houses of worship ravaged by the Eaton fire. They were coordinating efforts to restore a church, a synagogue, and a mosque in the hard-hit Altadena area. Each had been central to its community for decades. All were underinsured, and the insurance companies were slow to process the modest claims the congregations were entitled to.

Mike had never designed a house of worship before, and the work intrigued him. Preserving the historical character of the buildings while incorporating salvaged artifacts that had survived the fire was deeply gratifying. He enjoyed all his projects, but these, in particular, reminded him why he’d chosen this profession. The email confirmed that renovations to the synagogue were progressing well. With any luck, they expected to receive their certificate of occupancy by the end of January.