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I pick up the tiny 3D star and turn it over and over in my fingers. “That was like magic.”

“Just origami. They’re called lucky stars.”

“You do origami?” I couldn’t have been more surprised than if he told me he was a gamer now.

He smiles and tosses the second star down on the table. “They encourage you to pick up hobbies in prison. I picked up a book from the library. I’m not a master or anything. Those little stars are easy.”

“Magic,” I repeat, replaying the dance and twist of his fingers manipulating that straw wrapper with agility and grace. My clit suddenly twinges, as if asking for some attention from those magic-making fingers.

Both of the straw stars go into my purse. They’re just trash, but now they’re my trash.

Our appetizer arrives. I take one of the pieces of bread before Wolf can devour the whole platter himself. “Are we just going to eat or is there anything you wanted to talk about?” I ask.

He shifts in his seat and looks suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry that I keep hurting you. I don’t mean to. I just don’t think enough.”

“Why did you lie to me?” I hesitate, knowing he tried to explain before and I wouldn’t listen. “I guess I understand that you didn’t want me to wait around for you. But you didn’t even give me a choice. You never seemed like the type of person who’d give up.”

“That’s because it was your father.” Wolf raises his head and locks eyes with me, pinning me in place.

“My father?” I repeat. “What do you mean?”

He just looks at me, and I can see something is bothering him.

“What is it?” I ask.

“You sure you wanna hear the truth?”

I already know he’s a drug dealer. I wonder how worse it can get. “Just tell me,” I say.

“Your father framed me,” Wolf clarifies. “They didn’t find out during the trial and the evidence my brothers dug up is circumstantial, but circumstantial evidence is still evidence. I can show you everything if you want. I had Tracker, our information guy, send me digital copies to go along with the physical papers. It’s all on my phone.”

I remember what Wolf was arrested for. “My father planted drugs on you?” Horror swaddles me like a filthy blanket.

“Yes.” The way he looks at me leaves no room for doubt.

“But… but why?” My voice cracks. Our waitress, passing by, gives me a concerned look. “Why would he do that?”

“He told me that he didn’t want me to be with you and then he made damn sure of it. I knew I was framed and maybe suspected him, but I didn’t tell you because I knew I was going away no matter what. I thought by breaking up with you, you’d have a clean break. You’d leave and move on. I know I shouldn’t have made that choice for you. I was an idiot.”

I look down at my plate for a long time, the slice of bruschetta growing cold while my thoughts swirl. The waitress goes by again. She clearly thinks Wolf is the reason I’m upset. I’ll have to give her a signal, woman to woman, that I’m okay with him.

The man I’m upset with is dead and unable to answer for his crimes.

“H-he never told me. I never even suspected.”

“Why would he tell you?” Wolf reaches and takes my hand in his, folding his fingers around mine. “If you were to ever find out, you would have hated him. You would have strayed away from him, perhaps back to me, and he couldn’t have that. It was better for him that I be the asshole who dumped you, not the guy who was set up. No one goes looking for an asshole.”

“God.” I clutch at his hand like a drowning person clings to a life raft. “He was even more of a controlling bastard than I expected. And then I went and married a man just like him.”

“You didn’t know that at the time. He hid his true nature from you. That makes him even worse than your father.”

The waitress comes back, ostensibly to take our orders for our entrees. I manage a smile at her and then flick my eyes to Wolf’s hand and mine together. It’s a wordless way of telling her we’re okay, that I’m okay.

For now, I’m okay. I don’t agree with Wolf’s choices, but I understand now why he acted like he did back then. He was overwhelmed, trying to navigate an unknown situation. I can’t blame him because there was no right decision to be made, just varying shades of wrong.

The conversation turns, then. Wolf tells me about the trip to the police station and seeing Malcolm there. “Now come to find out that your little stalker has been let go on bond. I wonder who was responsible for that.”

“That sucks,” I murmur. “But it doesn’t make things any worse. He might have snitched to you under duress, but he could use that to plead his case with the cops.”