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I roll my eyes. “You’re hilarious, Grammy. And I haven’t fallen for anyone.”

“Well, you are on the ground, dear.”

Fran laughs.

I hold out a hand to her, shaking my fingers. “Shush and help me up.”

“I didn’t say anything. It was Grammy.” She grabs hold of me and pulls me to my feet.

“My leg is dead,” I say, hopping and smacking my numb thigh.

“Sit on the couch,” Fran commands. “Let’s get back to the boyfriend talk.”

“There’s nothing more to tell.” With Fran’s help, I hop over to the couch and plop onto my backside.

“Oh, I think there is. Boyfriend talk and you have Fourth of July plans with him?”

“Nothing is happening with Zev. It was a short act. Then Robert mentioned wanting to hang out and Zev went all ballistic.”

“Hang out?” Fran’s forehead wrinkles and a frown glosses over her normally happy face.

“Yes. It was harmless. He said we should hang out some time and Zev went off about him being married and Robert being a scumbag. He doesn’t even know Robert. He probably didn’t even mean it. He was just being polite.”

Fran stands next to the couch where I sit, hands on hips. “Robert is a scumbag. If you can’t believe Zev, then you should at the very least believe me.”

“And me,” Grammy says with a little stomp.

Sighing, I lean my head back against the back of the couch. “I understand. But can you understand that I don’t know that Robert?” I clasp my hands together. “When I see him, he feels like the same old Robert to me. I don’t know this Margo person. I don’t have those memories. And—” I almost bite my tongue, but I say it. “I miss him.”

“Rosalie,” Fran whimpers. She sits down next to me, clasping her hand in mine.

“Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe he didn’t cheat. Maybe⁠—”

She shakes her head. “There was no misunderstanding.”

I bite my inner cheek. “You don’t know that.”

“No,” Fran says. “You don’t know that. Noreen and I have perfect clarity on the situation.” Her hand squeezes mine. “Which I know is unfair and not your fault. But you’re going to have to trust us.”

I peer down, knowing she’s right. But the gaps in what I actually know make it hard to accept.

“Tell us more about the redhead,” Grammy says.

“Yeah,” Fran says. “You’ve never mentioned this Zev before.” She presses her lips together, a sign there’s more she wants to say. And I’m sure there is. Fran is very opinionated when it comes to Robert Pattinson. She used to like him.

I’m pretty sure she still likes the vampire—it’s just my Robert she has issues with.

“He’s just a friend. Someone I met at a café. We both like to read.” I shrug. It really is as simple as that.

“Just a friend? You’re spending the Fourth with him,” Fran says, brows raised.

I swallow. I haven’t actually told Zev I’d like to take him up on his offer. “Maybe that’s a bad idea.”

“It’s not.” Fran grips my arm. “You should do it. Tell me about him.”

Grammy starts for me. “He’s a redhead. He’s all muscles, built like a tank, and very sensitive.”

“Grammy,” I hiss.