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I gave him a weak smile, then had to look away. Dr. Inventive! Why had I heard that! It was just so wrong.

He frowned, puzzled.

“Lasagna,” I said quickly, trying to divert my wayward thoughts. Did he even like pasta?

“Hmm, excellent,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized me. “How was your afternoon?” he asked, and I heard the wariness in his voice.

I’ve seen his thoughts, and he’s seriously worried about you. Tristan’s words echoed through my head. “Okay,” I replied, not wanting to worry him. “I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked.”

He regarded me with a steady but intense gaze, and I managed not to squirm as I battled with my conscience. Should I tell him about the intruder? If I did, he would only worry more, and the house had an alarm.

“I had a perfectly fantastic day,” Lulu interjected.

Saved!

Thank heavens for Lulu.

Dylan turned his attention to her, leaving me free to make a salad. I tried hard not to watch their interaction; my thoughts were colored by what I’d overheard her say on the phone, and frankly, that was too much information. He seemed distracted while she regaled him with her day.

Stop eavesdropping, I castigated myself. This really is none of your business.

“What have you been buying?” she asked, pointing to the bags he’d left at the doorway of the kitchen.

“Oh, this and that.” He gave her a small smile, and I understood that his shopping was not up for discussion.

Lulu, as ever oblivious, persisted. “Tell me.”

“Just a few bits and pieces for Emily.”

“Oh,” she muttered.

“Shopping? For me?” I whispered.

“Don’t be angry,” he said, holding his palm up in defense… like Tristan earlier today.

“I don’t need anything,” I said with more force than I intended.

He sighed. “I bought you a new laptop and phone. You’ll need them for school.” He opened the fridge. “I’ll set them up after supper or tomorrow. More wine, Lu?”

“Yes please,” she said, looking from Dylan to me.

Phone. I had a phone—I didn’t want another phone. My phone, like me, had been through hell. It had the nasty crack to prove it. And I had an ancient laptop that required the wind to be in a certain direction to work properly, but that was beside the point.

Those things didn’t seem important anymore.

“Why, Dylan?” I could buy my own things. I had money, or would have. I’d have to pay him back.

He turned, his expression bleak and weary. “Let’s not have a row about this, Emily. Please.”

Why does he do this?

My debt to him was becoming insurmountable. Unwelcome angry tears pricked my eyes. I dashed them away with the back of my hand.

How will I ever pay him back?

I placed the salad on the dining table and grabbed a tea towel to retrieve my lasagna from the oven. Dylan had refilled Lulu’s glass and was filling his own.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked me.