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“Yes.” Rue glares at me. “Seriously, you should have texted me and asked. You would have saved yourself a lot of worry.”

“Oh God.”

I walk away from the pile of grated cheddar I was about to add to the soup I made. When I sit down next to Rue at the table, she lowers her brows in confusion.

“You look sick, Indie. Are you okay?”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

She scoffs. “Don’t feel bad; it can’t be any worse than your choice in husbands.”

“Will you stop? This is serious.”

“What did you do?” Her eyes widen. “Please tell me you didn’t file a police report accusing that memorabilia guy of stealing it.”

I groan in response. I was such an asshole to Pike Morgan. The things I said to him are running through my head now, each word reminding me why I’m not normally a person who loses my temper.

Rue gets up and walks over to the sink and washes her hands. Then she goes to the stove, checking the heat level on the soup and adding the cheese.

“I don’t want to waste away while I wait for you to tell me what you did,” she says.

I close my eyes so I don’t have to see her overly dramatic facial expressions when I tell her.

“I went to the memorabilia shop after Claire came over to take care of Nolan, and I asked them for information about the guy who bought the baseball before it went to auction. The guy who bought the baseball plays for the Las Vegas Saints.”

“The hockey team?”

“Yes. So I went to the arena hoping to find him, and he was practicing with the team. I begged my way into asking him if he has the ring.”

Rue waits for more, but I’m not volunteering any more information.

“And?” she asks, annoyed.

“And he doesn’t. Obviously.”

I walk over to the counter and uncork the bottle of red wine, needing to pour a glass for myself.

“Is that it?” Rue asks as she stirs the soup. “That doesn’t sound like a big deal.”

“I may have been…a little upset,” I admit.

“Don’t pussyfoot. It’s me. Tell me what you said.”

I cringe, taking a generous sip of wine. “I assumed he had it and was lying. I was angry. I called him…a pus-filled sore on the asshole of humanity.”

“Shut up.” Rue’s lips part with shock. “Are you punking me right now?”

“I wish.”

“That’s not you, Indie. That’s like ten times more me than you.”

“I know.”

She sighs softly. “Hey, everyone makes mistakes. Just apologize to the guy and move on. It’s not like you ever have to see him again.”

I lean a hip against the kitchen counter, gently swirling the wine in my glass.

“I assumed he was lying because he’s a man. I know how irrational that is.”

“You were burned pretty bad by a man and it’s only been a month.”

“Right, but am I a bitter man-hater now?” I walk over to the stove and take the spoon from Rue. “Let me finish. I need to do something besides think about what a jerk I was.”

“Maybe you’re a bitter man-hater now, but that doesn’t mean you will be forever. And even if you are,” Rue shrugs. “There’s a lot more to life than just men.”

I bring a spoonful of soup up to my mouth, blow gently to cool it, and then taste it.

“All I can do now is apologize to him,” I say. “I just wish I hadn’t acted like such a crazy person in front of his entire team. I lost it. The whole past month hit me in that moment like a gut punch. I only have the money from the sale of the baseball. And when I thought I’d have to spend the money to get the ring back…”

“The entire team?”

“And an intern. He had a front-row seat. My life is like a meltdown that never stops.”

I turn the heat off on the burner and get a ladle from a drawer, then take two regular bowls and a plastic one for Nolan out of a cabinet.

“I once accused my boyfriend of having another woman at his apartment, and it turned out to be his mom,” Rue says. “Not my finest moment.”

“Which boyfriend?”

“Jack.”

“Oh, I liked him.”

“Yeah, he was nice. Super freaky in the bedroom, though.”

“Mommy, I peed!” Nolan cries from the other room.

“You did?”

Rue and I race into the living room to see Nolan grinning at us, completely naked and pointing at his plastic training potty. Unfortunately, the pee is in a puddle on the floor next to the potty.

“Good job,” I say half-heartedly.

“That’s…progress,” Rue says, smiling brightly.

“Sorry,” I say under my breath.

“It’s okay. At least it’s not carpet. I’ll go get the floor cleaner.”

“No, I’ll get the floor cleaner. Can you grab a clean Pull-Up and some pajamas for him?”

“Sure,” she says, running up to Nolan and tickling him. “But first—the potty dance!”

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