“You had sex.”
I laugh, clapping my hands together. “Grandma!”
She smirks, eyebrow raised, reminding me of the woman she was when I was a teenager and she took me in. Illness is a vicious, ugly thing, if it can topple a woman like Grandma.
“That doesn’t sound like a denial,” she says.
“Are you psychic or something?”
“Thatsounds like a confirmation.”
“He’s my boss,” I murmur.
“Oh, I don’t want to hear that.” Grandma waves her hand shakily. “Don’t tell me everything that’s wrong or could go wrong. I want to hear the good stuff, Izzy. Tell me how he treats you. Does he make you laugh? Do you have a connection? Oh, I have to meet him!”
“He treats me well,” I say. “And yes, he makes me laugh.” Among other things. “I’m not some serial dater, but I think we have real chemistry, a real connection.”
“What about me meeting him, hmm?” she says.
“We haven’t been together for a long time,” I murmur, deflecting.
“Maybe not,” she says. “But don’t talk as if I don’t know you. You care about this man. He’s important to you, which means he’s important to me too.”
“Well,” I say, knowing this might be a mistake. “He’s outside.”
“Here, now?” Grandma says, excitedly.
“Yeah, he said he didn’t care how early it was. He wanted to spend more time with me before work.”
“Oh, how wonderful. So…”
“So?” I ask.
“Don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes,” she says, laughing. “Bring him in here!”
I laugh. “Are you serious? He might not be ready to meet my family.”
Though even as I say this, I remember the look on his face last night when he mentioned coming here. It was like he wanted to be more involved, then he must’ve read the terror in my eyes, the fear I let exist just for a split second. But it was enough.Thatwas when he said he’d wait outside.
I reach for my cell phone when I realize I left it in the car.
“I’ll go out and let him know,” I murmur. “But no promises…”
Grandma chuckles. “If he doesn’t want to come in here, I’ll go out there anddraghim in.”
I grin. When she’s in a feisty mood like this, I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t let her do.
Outside, I walk over to my car. Dom looks strange sitting in the passenger seat, his suit too expensive, his general energy too… rich. I walk to the window, meaning to knock on the glass. He hasn’t noticed me; his gaze is fixed entirely on the screen. He’s on FaceTime with a pretty woman and a boy with a big smile on his face. Dom’s eyes are bright, less troubled than I’ve ever seen them.
He finally notices me, turning. Then he does something that breaks my heart. Without saying goodbye to the woman or the boy—whoever they are—he ends the call and quickly tucks his phone away as though hiding it. Why doesn’t he want me to see those people? Who are they?
Before he ended the call so suspiciously, I could’ve assumed they were family friends, somebody he met through his work, perhaps. But now? If he isn’t hiding anything, abruptly ending the call with a guilty look on his face is an odd way to show it.
He opens the door, all smiles again. He might not be certain I saw his phone screen.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I swallow, pushing the suspicion down. It’s not like I’ve got any right to judge him for keeping secrets. But somehow, insanely, a secret girlfriend, ex-wife, or whatever-she-is, and asonseem more severe than what I’m doing. Do I seriously believe that? Or do I just want to?
