Page 36 of Promise

My ex-not-really-ex-husband looks freshly showered despite wearing black joggers that hang loose on his hips and a baseball-style shirt that hugs his chest. The ink on his arms is on full display.

My friends ping gazes from Dart to me and back to him. I can almost hear the questions suddenly in each of their heads.

Who is that? Mavis would ask.

You didn’t mention you had a man in your life. Halle would tease.

Yes, yes, yes. The last being Genie in all her enthusiasm.

But it isn’t until Vale re-enters the room, laughter in her voice while she juggles wine glasses. “Okay, let’s get this party started right with— Dart?”

She stalls out behind the back of the couch, blinking at Dart like she can’t believe he’s standing there.

I still can’t believe he’s here.

“With darts?” Genie says, confused, glancing from Vale to Dart.

“No.” Vale’s clarification is said low and long before she looks at me, compassion and fear mingled in her eyes.

“What is he doing here?” she asks, like Dart isn’t present.

“Everyone,” I begin, clearing my throat before casually waving toward him. “This is Dart. Dart Rivers. And it appears he was just leaving.”

I glare at him because I do not want him to crash my impromptu baby shower, especially since it just morphed into a truth-sharing session with friends.

Because they are going to have questions, and unfortunately, I still don’t have all the answers.

“Right.” He smiles with enough wattage to set all the lightbulbs buzzing. “I’m headed out to a baseball game.”

Baseball? Whose team? He can’t possibly mean Tate’s team? My older brother plays in an adult, men over thirty-five league during the summer months with some of the guys he’s been friends with since high school. The star gang, I used to call the five guys tight as brothers.

Only three remained in the area.

And I wasn’t aware Dart had been in contact with Tate.

“Looks like a party,” he keeps his voice light, while his gaze roams from friend to friend.

No one speaks, perhaps too stunned to find a man in my house.

After an awkward beat, Dart crosses the room to Mirabelle, rubs his hand over her little head, giving her a soft glance before stepping closer to me.

He leans in like he’s going to kiss my cheek. Like he’s forgotten my don’t-touch-me rule. Or maybe he’s acting out of some long-gone habit.

He always kissed me before he went somewhere.

He stops himself just shy of my cheek, slips his hands into his jogger pockets, and says, “Behave yourself, Forever.”

I absolutely hate the chill that ripples down my center at the soft brush of his breath and the heat of his nearness.

He must have showered because the pine over asphalt fragrance lingers when he pulls further away.

“I’ll be home around eleven,” he states, like he owes me his time, or I even care when he’ll be back. Then again, he could simply be warning me: he’ll be back.

When he steps away from me, he grabs a ball cap I hadn’t noticed on the antique coat stand in the hallway and tugs it on his head before giving me one last look and a wink before disappearing out the front door.

Halle and Genie rush to the front window, like they can’t help themselves from watching him walk away.

Vale remains behind the couch, still too stunned to move. Woman frozen with wine glasses in hand, a painting of her might read.