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“Still. Thanks.”

“Sam, wait.”

I paused at the door, hand on the knob. He stood in the middle of his kitchen, paint-splattered and beautiful and everything I couldn’t let myself want.

“Yeah?”

Say it, I thought. Say whatever you were going to say before the spider. Say you want me to stay. Say something that makes sense of why my heart races when you look at me like that.

“The purple was a good choice,” he said instead.

I fled before disappointment could show on my face. The walk between our houses had never felt longer. Twenty steps to cross from his normal life to my disaster zone.

My phone started ringing before I even got my door unlocked. Unknown number, but I recognized the Charlotte area code. I let it go to voicemail, already exhausted by whatever new drama was incoming.

But then a text popped up. A photo.

Me, leaving Tyson’s house five minutes ago. Wearing his shirt. Hair messed from sleep. The angle meant someone had been watching from down the street. Waiting.

“Are you fucking him? Is that why you came here?”

My hands shook as I fumbled with my keys. Another text: “Answer me.”

Then: “I saw how he looked at you.”

And: “You’re still my wife.”

My knees were suddenly weak. My safe haven wasn’t safe anymore.

And now Garrett knew about Tyson.

15

— • —

Sam

I didn’t sleep for shit.

Every car that drove past sent me to the window. Every shadow could be Garrett. By dawn, I’d checked the locks seventeen times and consumed enough coffee to kill a horse.

Around ten, someone started pounding on my door hard enough to rattle the hinges.

“Samantha! I know you’re in there!”

Garrett’s voice. Because of course it was. The universe had apparently decided subtlety was overrated.

My blood turned to ice water.

“Open the door, Samantha. I just want to talk.”

Right. And I just wanted to set his car on fire. Neither of us were getting our wishes today.

I grabbed my phone, hands shaking as I scrolled to Tyson’s number. He’d mentioned working a job across town today, probably wouldn’t even answer. But it rang once before his voice filled my ear.

“Sam?”

My stomach did this swooping thing that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with how my name sounded in his mouth. I squashed the feeling immediately. Now was not the time for whatever hormonal insanity my body was experiencing.