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I pass the copper-haired woman the old-fashioned, and she leaves a minimal tip before disappearing with her boyfriend. The tip jar is half empty, which isn’t surprising when we don’t have anything this group wants.

“The trash is full. I’ll be right back.” I grab the bag and tie it off.

I need some air.

Some space.

A second to think.

Rob and Elsie spread out along the bar, covering my section for me without even blinking. I’m damn lucky to have them willing to work six nights a week because I couldn’t run this place without them.

When I step outside, the heat of the bar slips away. Everything is damp from this afternoon’s rain, so it’s a little muggy, but cool. I tip my head back. Stars are already bright in the sky overhead, a little drowned out from the lights around town, but beautiful. I take a breath as one shoots across the sky but don’t make a wish.

I stopped counting on things like wishes. If I want something, I’m the one who has to make it happen.

Tossing the trash in the dumpster, I turn back to the bar, but the door is already swinging open before I reach it.

The universe must really hate me right now. That’s the only explanation for Zander standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing out here?” He tries to block my path, but I manage to squeeze around him and slip back into the bar.

The reek of tobacco and oil on his clothes has me holding my breath. “What does it look like I’m doing? Taking out the trash.”

Zander follows me inside, when I really wish he wouldn’t. But since he’s here, I decide now is as good a time as ever to draw lines in the sand. I head to the desk and grab my gaudy engagement ring out of the top drawer.

“Since you’re here anyway”—I hold out the ring—“This is yours.”

“I didn’t ask for it back.”

Of course he didn’t. God forbid I spread a rumor that Zander wanted me to give him back the ring. That would imply he gave a shit about how much it cost, and if there’s one thing he’d never want people to think about him, it’s that he’s hurting for money.

“I don’t need it,” I insist, setting it on the desk and stepping back.

He stares at it for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. Just because he didn’t demand I return it doesn’t mean he’ll let that much money sit untouched either.

I huff out a laugh, turning away from him, but he snags my arm.

“You moved your things out.”

“That’s what happens when two people break up.” I shrug.

“Break up?” His expression hardens. “Just because you got pissed and threw a fit doesn’t change anything, Harloe. We’ve been together too damn long. How do you think that shit made me look?”

I really don’t care how it made him look, but I don’t bother saying that, or it will just piss him off more.

Zander shakes his head. “You made your point, all right? But cutting things off just because you don’t like how I run my business is bullshit. You can’t just end it without talking to me. That’s not your decision to make.”

“It’s very much my decision, actually.” I look him straight in the eyes. “There is no us anymore, Zander. There hasn’t been an us in a long time. You’re just refusing to accept it.”

“Come on, baby.” He steps closer, gripping the back of my hair.

When I try to pull away, his grasp tightens, and tears spring to my eyes. Instead of pulling back when he notices, he closes the gap between us. His chest smashes against mine. His hot breath is in my ear as he pulls me closer.

“We have history, Harloe. You can’t deny that.” Zander’s free hand trails my jaw as he skims over my face. “I’m sorry I’ve been stressed lately. Distant even. But it doesn’t erase what we’ve been through together. Real shit that you can’t just ignore because one thing pissed you off. Who was there for you when your father couldn’t cover the hospital bills? Who was there when your mother⁠—”

“Don’t.” I cut him off, shoving him back a step.

Thankfully, he lets me go this time.