Page 178 of Knot What I Expected

“Um, yeah. Of course.”

“Whoopee!”

So apparently I’m the only one having an existential crisis. My son is already packing and waiting with Mrs. Donnelly at home.

I hand the next customer his to-go order, and he nods his thanks.

“Have a good one.”

“You too, darlin’.”

The chime above the front door rings.

I look up automatically with my customer-service smile already in place.

It disappears.

I recognize the woman walking in. It’s the Bridezilla-to-be from Dick’s.

Lindsey whatever-her-last-name-is.

Two of her bridesmaids trail behind her.

“Oh my God.”

Her lip curls the second she sees me.

“Does this skank work everywhere?”

Wow. Good morning to you too.

“Um, can I help you?”

I refuse to take the bait. I’ve dealt with snarky bitches—male, female, whatever, bitches be bitches—most of my life. It comes with the territory when you’re working in the service industry.

Then I notice her face. My irritation evaporates.

Lindsey is sporting a black eye. A bad one. Purple bruising spreads beneath it, poorly concealed by makeup, and something cold slips down my spine.

Because I know what that looks like.

I know what it feels like to stand in front of a mirror and figure out which concealer covers fingerprints.

Ethan gave me more than my fair share of bruises when I lived under his rule with the Suicide Cliff Wake.

Suddenly, Lindsey isn’t just the bitchy bride from last night. She’s a woman somebody hurt. And no matter how nasty she’s been to me, I can't look at that bruise and feel nothing.

“Just get me a diet cola already!” she snaps.

I blink. My other nature rises, irritation starting to outweigh sympathy.

“Hurry up!”

Okay. Compassion only stretches so fucking far.

“Sure. Will there be anything else?”

“Ugh! Will somebody give this person our order. I don’t have time for this!”