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“Sure.”
I gave him a cold stare before I looked at the menu again.
“The anger has an expiration date, but the pain doesn’t.”
“What the fuck do you want from me, Theo?” I dropped the menu.
He gave a shrug before he took a drink again.
I sat back in the chair, annoyed that I’d come out with Theo.
“It’s not too late to fix things with Scarlett.”
“I don’t want to fix things with her.”
“I think you know you lost your temper and fucked everything up, and it’s easier to be angry than to admit you would be between her legs right now if you just let it go.”
“Are you my therapist now?” I snapped. “I told you I’m over it.”
“Then how many women have you slept with?”
I looked away. “You know I’ve never talked about that?—”
“So, none.”
“Like I would tell you?—”
“None.” He held up his hand and made a circle with his fingers. “Zero.”
“Is this why you invited me to dinner?” I asked incredulously. “To grill me about this?”
“Why else?” he asked. “You think I enjoy your company?”
I took a drink. “I certainly don’t enjoy yours.”
He sank in his chair and said nothing else, the interrogation finally over.
My eyes drifted across the restaurant, seeing couples and friends having a meal together. Quiet conversation and occasional laughter filled the room. We were at the end of winter and the beginning of spring, but it still felt like the dark ages.
Theo rose from his chair. “Excuse me.” He didn’t push in his chair before he walked away.
I actually enjoyed his absence, enjoyed having a moment to digest the rage he’d just instilled in me. My elbow was propped on the armrest with my closed fist under my chin. My thumb started to turn the wedding ring on my finger, feeling the cool metal against my skin. It was a habit I’d picked up in my quiet moments, when I was deep in concentration.
Someone appeared in my peripheral and then came directly into my line of sight.
In his black blazer and collared shirt, Dante pulled out the chair and helped himself to the table, sitting directly across from me like we were a pair of friends who met up for dinner. His eyes were on the table for a moment, like he didn’t want to look at me, like it physically caused him pain. After a breath, he overcame his rage and met my stare.
I stopped fidgeting with my ring.
He stared.
I stared.
I knew it was a setup. Dante must have conspired with Theo to get an audience with me, and there was only one reason he’d want to do that. Rage bubbled underneath my skin, but I suppressed it behind my scowl.
He didn’t speak, like stringing together a couple words was too hard for him.
I let the silence linger, wanting to make it as hostile as possible.
