Page 74 of The Wright Man

"Patio," we both said again, at the exact same time.

We looked at each other, and her smile bloomed before she could stop it. That quiet confirmation that we were still us, in some strange, impossible way.

The hostess led us out to the back patio, where a few scattered tables sat under string lights and oversized umbrellas. The air was warm but not unbearable, the shade enough to keep us from melting. I pulled out a chair for Angel like it was second nature. She blinked at the gesture—just for a second—before sitting down with a soft "thank you" under her breath.

I didn't comment on it, but I noticed. Ole Gavin clearly didn't even do the bare minimum anymore.

I sat across from her, letting my eyes linger for a second longer than I should've before grabbing my napkin and holding it out to her.

She raised a brow. "What's that for?"

"You always use two," I said simply. "One for your lap, one for your hands."

She looked stunned for a beat. "You remember that?"

I nodded.

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, I saw her walls crack just a little. She took the napkin slowly, like it was more than a piece of cloth. "You always think you know everything."

I shrugged, settling back into my chair.

"Not everything. Just you."

She held my gaze. "Four years is a long time, Maleek. I'm different."

"So am I," I said, quiet but firm. "But I still know you better than anybody else."

I didn't have to say the rest. We both heard it.

Even your whack ass husband.

She didn't respond right away. Just dropped the napkin in her lap and looked down at the menu. Pretended to read, even though I could tell her mind was somewhere else.

I gave her a minute. Gave myself one too.

Her energy today was different than it had been at Cap's party. She wasn't as guarded. Still a little wary, maybe. But not cold. Not closed off. She was letting herself breathe again. And I'd be damned if I didn't do everything in my power to make sure she kept breathing easier.

I picked up my own menu, scanning the options. Everything looked overpriced and light on seasoning, but I wasn't here for the food.

"How about this," I said, glancing at her over the edge of the laminated page. "We both look at the menu, and when the waitress gets here, we order for each other. Drinks and all. Bet you five dollars we pick exactly what we would've picked for ourselves."

She tilted her head, skeptical. "You serious?"

"Dead serious."

She smirked, that competitive streak lighting up behind her eyes. "Bet."

A few minutes later, the waitress appeared, pen poised. I gestured toward Angelica. "Ladies first."

She leaned back, scanning the waitress without looking at me. "Barbecue bacon cheeseburger. Extra pickles, no onions. With a Sprite."

I grinned, nodding once.

The waitress turned to me, and I didn't hesitate. "Turkey and ham club. Potato chips on the side, not fries. With a sweet tea." She'd just started to put her pen away when I added, "And a fruit cup."

Angelica's mouth fell open.

The waitress didn't seem to notice. Just jotted everything down with a polite smile and disappeared back inside.