“She left me.”
I blinked. Well, he was honest at least. Then horror hit me.
Did he cheat on her? Was I sitting here with another cheater?
My god, I must attract them.
Graham smiled faintly. “For my best friend. I didn’t cheat on her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Oh, shit. He totally read my mind there.
“Sorry.” I cringed, spinning my wine glass around between my fingers. “That sucks.”
“Yes,” he hummed, “They claimed they fell in love, and nothing happened until she left me.” He made a face that told me he didn’t believe that for a second.
“Of course,” I said, and he laughed.
“It was easier to believe it than to challenge it.” Graham locked eyes with me. “I’m in my fifties now; I’ve learned a lot about love since then.”
I leaned forward. “I don’t suppose you could share the knowledge?”
He nodded. “You don’t ever stop loving the version of them that you loved. The version of them that was faithful and honest.”
Another truth I really didn’t want to hear. “Yeah, I can imagine.”
“Are you still in love with him, Lila?” Graham’s voice was like silk over jagged rocks in a storm.
Tears pricked my eyes, and I stared down at my lap.
I wouldalwaysbe in love with Victor Rossi, but I could never get over what he did to me.
“Honestly? The wine wants me to say yes, but I want to lie.”
“So, lie.”
It seemed so simple sitting here. Just lie.
So, I did.
“Then I’m completely over him and nothing hurts anymore.”
If only. I’d do anything to mean that.
“It’s as easy as that, Lila. It’s your life. Take back control.” Graham finished his wine and then ordered another.
“I think we’re going to need more wine.”
I couldn’t help but agree.
It was after midnight when he walked me back to my room. I wasn’t too drunk—Graham made sure I drank plenty of water, and he was the perfect gentleman.
“This is the bit where you expect me to invite you in, isn’t it?” I giggled which meant I wasdefinitelydrunk. I had my key in my hand, but I couldn’t get it into the damn lock.
What was I going to do? I could invite him in, but…
My stupid broken fucking heart still missed my husband. I hated it, but it was what it was. Plus, I really didn’t feel like having sex at all—not with my bloated stomach and night sweats that came no matter how much air conditioning I had on.
Urgh.
