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“Tonight at the restaurant, when you saw him standing there…the way you looked at him, it was all over your face…you love him. You looked at him the way you used to look at me, half a lifetime ago. A way you haven’t looked at me in a very long time. I hated admitting it, even to myself, but what you had with the vet wasn’t simply a hormonal fling.”
“I want you to leave,” she said between clenched teeth.
“You have my permission to tell him what I did, how I manipulated him. That I lied about your fertility troubles. Tell him…everything.” He went to the door, finally, pausing once more before walking through it. “I did it out of love, And. I was trying to do what’s best for you.”
“I don’t want that kind of love.” Tears stung her eyes. “I never did.”
* * *
ANDIE
Half the night had gone to crying, the other half to thinking until her head hurt. The last time she saw on the clock was five-something.
Thank god for twelve-year-olds who got their own breakfast. Dylan had shoved a note under her bedroom door around eight, telling her which friend’s house he’d gone to and when he’d be home. Awesome kid, that one.
In a way, Scott’s manipulations were a good thing. If she’d stayed with Mason, she would’ve gotten pregnant, either intentionally or accidentally. And she was forty. Healthy and fit enough to have a baby, but way past being chained to a nursing and napping schedule. A newborn wouldn’t let her sleep until eight-thirty.
Of course, the newborn’s father would. He’d be the type to help with the feedings and fussiness, no doubt about it. Given his occupation, he’d probably change poopie diapers without scrunching his nose. Dammit.
She sprawled on the couch and took a large, fortifying swallow of coffee. Okay, Mason would be a wonderful dad. And truthfully, she’d give up extra sleep for the joys of motherhood any day of the week. But there was the other thing Scott’s manipulations had brought to the surface. Mason had major issues working through problems. The first time he’d cut and run had been partially her fault. The night she’d lied to test his feelings. Ugh, what a mistake.
This, though? Breaking up with her via a note on her doorstep because of shit Scott told him… He hadn’t even attempted talking to her. Hadn’t bothered to ask if any of it were true. Instead, he’d turned tail and headed for the hills. More silent treatment. Different from Scott’s, but just as controlling.
Last night she’d told Scott she didn’t want his kind of love. If running at the first sign of trouble was Mason’s M.O., she didn’t wanthiskind of love, either.
She pulled her cell into her lap and sent Lasha a text.Love sucks. Pancakes required.
A reply came back immediately.Told you so. Be there in twenty.
* * *
ANDIE
She was loosely presentable when the doorbell rang. Lasha wouldn’t care about the dark circles under bloodshot eyes. Neither would The Pancake House. Andie threw her purse over her shoulder and pulled the door.
“Oh. Scott.” She blocked the opening. With her wedge-heeled sandals, his stature and the step, she looked down on him. Bitchy as it was, she enjoyed it.
“Expecting Mason, I assume.”
“Stop making assumptions about me and we’ll both be happier people. I’m waiting for Lasha. Dylan isn’t here, so, goodbye.”
“I should have called first.”
“And yet you didn’t.”
“I didn’t think you’d take my call.”
“Another assumption.” Though probably true.
“I took some things I shouldn’t have when we separated. It’s time I return them, since I’ve accepted that we’re over.”
“Right now?”
“It’s just a few things. They’re in the car—I could use a hand, if you have a minute.”
“Fine.” She huffed after him. Anything to expedite his departure.
“I’ll get the box in the trunk. You take what’s in the backseat.”
