When Mollie woke up the next morning, there was no Jackson beside her. No bracing smell of brewing coffee.

A glance at the clock showed her why. It was well past ten, and she’d learned that Jackson rarely slept past six. He’d likely made coffee hours ago.

She sat up and blinked groggily before crawling to the side of the bed. A quick scan showed that he’d picked up her dress and panties, setting both on the dresser.

Grabbing her clothes, she slowly opened the door of the bedroom. “Jackson?”

Nothing.

She darted across the hallway to the safety of her own bedroom, where she pulled on underwear, sweatpants, and an ancient tank top.

Heading toward the kitchen, she made a beeline for the coffeepot, smiling when she saw he’d set it so that all she needed to do was hit the button to get a fresh pot brewing.

She was grabbing the water pitcher from the fridge when she saw his note on the counter.

Mollie rolled her eyes. Well, that was romantic.

While she waited for the coffee to finish, she headed into the living room, where she’d left her cell on an end table.

She gave a happy little jump when she saw a text message from Grace Malone, the wife of one of Jackson’s colleagues. Mollie had assumed when the group had insisted on getting her number last night it had just been out of politeness, but Grace had invited her to their girls’ night on Thursday. Mollie quickly typed back a happy acceptance.

Her smile faded when she saw the next text. It was from her sister.

Hey. Sorry I’ve been busy lately. Forgive? Also, I’m in NYC again—new club flew me and the other Housewives gals up to attend their opening. Not busy till later though. Can u do lunch? I want to catch up with my baby sister!

Mollie blew out a breath. On the plus side, at least Madison had told her about being in New York this time.

On the other hand . . .

It was time.

No, it was past time to tell her sister what was going on. Especially after last night. Mollie had almost dropped the L-word, for God’s sake. She owed Madison the truth. Her sister deserved it.

Plus Jackson deserved more than to be someone’s dirty little secret.

And Mollie deserved . . . She didn’t know what she deserved. She only knew that the secrecy was tearing a hole in her heart.

Still, this was not going to be an easy meeting—not at all.

Sure. What time? she texted back.

Madison’s response was immediate. Noon. Fig & Olive on Lex?

See you there, Mollie texted.

Setting the phone aside, she waited for a surge of panic, but felt oddly numb.

Deep breaths. You can do this. You’re an adult—accept the consequences of your actions.

An hour and a half later, Mollie had had too many cups of coffee and was jittery, her palms sweaty, as she walked the few blocks to the restaurant.

Mollie blew out a long breath before she opened the front door to Fig & Olive and stepped inside. For the hundredth time she wondered if she should have warned Jackson what she was doing—that she was coming clean.

Ultimately she’d decided against it. What she and Jackson had was important, but right now it was about her and Maddie.

About the fact that she loved Jackson and her sister. And they both deserved more than lies.

Mollie stepped into the restaurant.

“Hi,” she said, forcing a smile at the hostess. “I’m meeting someone here at noon. Madison Burke?”

The young woman glanced down at her screen. “Yes, of course. The rest of your party is already seated.”

Great. Fantastic. So much for having a few more minutes to gather her thoughts, to figure out how to tell her sister that she’d been bumping uglies with her ex.

Madison grinned in greeting as Mollie approached, her smile so warm and friendly that Mollie’s stomach twisted in dread.

“Oh my gosh, that blue dress looks amazing on you,” Madison gushed, standing to give her a quick hug.

“Hey, Maddie,” Mollie said, hugging her sister maybe a moment longer than necessary.

“Ugh, that nickname makes me feel twelve again,” Madison said as they sat down. “Although, come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind going back in time. I found another gray hair today. And I’m officially addicted to Botox.” Madison gestured at a mostly perfect forehead.

Mollie smiled. “You look beautiful. You are beautiful.”

“You’re twenty-eight,” Madison grumbled as she picked up her menu. “Just wait until you’re creeping up on thirty-five. Stuff’s sagging and creasing all over the place. Soon the boy who was once wildly in love with you becomes the man who can’t wait to boot you out of his office.”

Mollie paused in the process of taking a sip of her water. She’d thought she’d have at least a bit longer before the conversation turned to Jackson, but then, that was the entire reason Madison was in New York. For Madison, it was always about Jackson. Even though they were no longer married, he was still front and center.

“Did Jackson mention that I dropped by?” Madison asked, shutting her menu and leaning forward.

Mollie took another sip of her water. “He mentioned it.”

Madison shook her head. “It was weird. It’s like he’s intentionally holding himself back from me. For a minute there we were connecting. We felt like the old Madison and Jackson. But then he kept looking at his phone, acting all weird.” She shrugged. “Any ideas?”

The server came over to get their drink order, and Madison caught Mollie’s eye and lifted an eyebrow. “Wine?”

Hell yes, she could go for some wine. Or tequila shots. Whatever would make this conversation easier for both of them.

They both ordered a glass of white wine, and Madison picked up the conversation the second the waitress moved away. “So talk to me, Mollie. What the heck is going on over there? I thought he and I had reached a turning point when I made him dinner, but now I can’t get him to even respond to my text messages, much less meet with me. I keep thinking if I could just get him into bed, maybe have some angry-ex sex, he’ll remember how good things are.”

“Why do you want him back?” Mollie blurted out.

Madison blinked, looking surprised at the question. As though it should be obvious, she replied, “He’s my husband.”

“He’s your ex-husband. You filed the papers.”

Madison rubbed her temple, as though the conversation was beneath her. “Mollie, we’ve been over this, like, a hundred times. You don’t understand—”

“Right, I know, I’ve never had a big love like yours and Jackson’s,” Mollie said, not bothering to keep the impatience out of her voice. “But it’s just . . . hell, Mad, did you cheat on him? Early on, I mean, before everything got broken?”

Madison’s head snapped up. “What?”

Mollie fiddled with her fork but forced herself to continue despite her sister’s furious gaze.

“Jackson said he saw you. With Tyler. Said you guys were . . . you know.”

The anger had faded from Madison’s eyes and been replaced with cold shock. “He told you that?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That ass,” Madison hissed. “That was his and my private—” She broke off as the server brought their wine over.

“Ready to order?” their perky waitress asked with a wide smile.

“A few more minutes,” Madison said, her voice all sugar as she smiled prettily at the server. “Still deciding.”

Mollie felt a tiny stab of disdain. Had Madison always been like this? So easily able to go from furious to sugary sweet? And had the sweet part ever been genuine?

“He shouldn’t have told you that,” Madison said, her smile disappearing the moment the waitress walked away.

“So it’s true,” Mollie said a little sadly.

Madison rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me feel guilty about this, Mollie. You don’t know what it was like. Knowing that half the women in the country want your husband. Knowing that he started taking some of them up on their invitation . . .”

Mollie looked away. She still didn’t know whether Madison had just gotten really good at selling the lie or whether she actually believed Jackson had cheated on her, but Mollie no longer believed it. She’d seen the type of man Jackson Burke was. Hell, she should have always known it. He wasn’t a cheater.

Madison started to take a sip of wine, then paused as she studied Mollie closely. “You’re not serious,” Madison said, putting the glass down with a soft clank.

“About what?”

“You’re taking his side on this!” Madison accused, leaning forward. “Oh my God, you are! Ugh, I should have known that pushing you to live with him was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, perhaps it was,” Mollie said quietly.

Madison was too riled up to notice Mollie’s response. “You know, I actually thought you were over your stupid little crush. And I thought he was decent enough not to prey upon it. But, God, am I an idiot.”

The server approached them once more, her ready smile slipping when she observed the tension at the table, and she wisely backed away.

“You knew about my . . . crush?” Mollie asked, the word feeling woefully inadequate given the escalation of her relationship with Jackson.

Madison rolled her eyes. “Of course. You always looked at him too long, blushed when he talked to you . . . you practically fainted every time he gave you a token gift.”

Mollie felt her cheeks heating as she remembered that stupid red Chanel clutch. She’d always known that the gesture hadn’t meant as much to Jackson as it had to Mollie, but seeing it now through Madison’s eyes somehow made it downright pathetic.

“It’s not a big deal,” Madison said, her voice gentling slightly. “I don’t think he knew, if it makes you feel any better.”

Well, he sure as hell knows now, Mollie thought, and took a gulp of her wine.

“But you can’t let him use you.” Madison reached across the table. “I know he can be charming. I mean, trust me, I so know. And he knows exactly the right thing to say to get what he wants.”

“What is it you think he wants?”

Madison’s mouth opened, and then she shut it, frowning a little. After a moment she said, “He wants his life back the way it was.”

“But it’s never going to be the way that it was. He’s never going to play football. You’re never going to be that sweet virginal college girl he fell in love with.”

“Ouch, Mollie.”

“I’m not trying to be a bitch. But don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

Madison’s mouth set in a stubborn line, and this time when the server tentatively came back over, Madison ordered a salad, dressing on the side.

“And for you, miss?” the server asked Mollie.

“Um . . .” She quickly glanced down at the menu and ordered the first thing she saw. “I’ll take the risotto.” It didn’t really matter what she ordered. Her stomach was in far too many knots to actually eat.

“Must be nice,” Madison grumbled when the server moved away.

“What must be nice?”

Madison lifted a slim shoulder. “Being called miss. Being able to order carbs.”

Mollie slumped back, suddenly sick of being seen as some scrappy, dorky kid. “Ugh, you sound like Jackson.”

Madison went very still as she stared at Mollie over her wineglass. “Meaning?”

Shit. Shit.

“He just gives me crap about being young is all. It gets old.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you’re real torn up about a hot guy commenting about how nubile you are.”

“Nubile? Seriously? Don’t be weird,” Mollie grumbled.

“What else does Jackson say?” her sister said. “And when exactly did you go and switch sides?”

“There are no sides, Madison! You two divorced. It was messy. The only side I’m on is the one where you two have moved on with your lives.”

“Would that make you happy?” Madison asked in the same sugary voice she’d used on the waitress. “Would Jackson moving on make you happy?”

Mollie lifted her chin. Here goes.

“Yes, it would,” she said quietly.

They said nothing for several tense moments as their gazes clashed. Madison had always been good at reading her, and Mollie wondered if her sister would pick up on the subtext or if she would have to come right out and say—

“Oh my God,” Madison whispered, her eyes widening. “Oh my God.”

Yep, her sister had put the pieces together, all right. That was plenty obvious by the look of pure shock on her face.

“Are you kidding me, Mollie? You slept with my husband?”

To Madison’s credit, she kept her voice down. What could easily have turned into a scene merely looked like an intense conversation.

“You are not married to him,” Mollie said.

“Don’t throw semantics in my face.”

“Semantics? You file for divorce from the man, leave him for someone else, and even after you change your mind and he tells you he doesn’t want to get back together, you think the problem here is word choice?”

“No, I think the problem is you fucking him!”

Mollie flinched.

Madison put her elbows on the table, pressing her fingers to her pale cheeks. “I can’t . . . I can’t believe this. How did this . . . how could you, Mollie?”

Mollie swallowed. Madison’s reaction was no worse than she’d expected, but it was no better either.

“Maddie, you have to know—”

“Wait, I’m sorry. Do you actually think there’s something you can say that will make me okay with this?”

“No,” Mollie said. “I don’t expect you to be okay with it. I know it violates girl code and sister code, and I should have talked to you about my feelings before anything happened, but—”

Her sister wasn’t listening. She interrupted as though Mollie had never spoken. “And to think I pushed you to move in with him. Knowing about your stupid infatuation, knowing that he’d do anything to get back at me—”

“Wait, what?” Mollie asked, holding up her hand. “Whatever’s happening between Jackson and me isn’t about you, Maddie. If anything, you’re the reason that we—”

“Can you please drop the sweet-and-clueless routine for five minutes? I’m sure your reasons are all very pure and adoring, but I know Jackson, babe. Better than you ever will. And if he found his way into your bed, it’s because he was horny and figured he could get his rocks off and get back at me at the same time.”

Mollie shook her head. “You’re wrong. We care about each other. We’ve always—”

“Been best buddies, or whatever, I know, but you’re fooling yourself if you think he’s not messing around with you to get back at me.”

This was not the conversation she’d been practicing for. Mollie had been expecting to grovel, and instead she was on the defensive.

“Mollie.” Her sister’s tone was surprisingly kind. Suspiciously so. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Mollie said automatically, still trying to catch up with her sister’s rapid mood changes.

“Christ,” Madison said, taking a huge sip of her wine. “I hate myself for not seeing this coming. All the signs were right in front of me . . .” She set her glass down before looking up and meeting Mollie’s gaze directly. “This isn’t going to end well. You know that, right?”

“You have every right to be upset. I knew you’d be mad. You should be mad.”

“Of course I’m mad,” Madison said, picking up her wineglass and staring at the pale liquid. “I’m mad, and hurt, and shocked. And all I can think about is going home for a good cry.”

Mollie winced.

“But I guess I’m not that shocked,” Madison continued. “I’ve always known you liked him. It used to kill me, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I mean, if I talked to you, it would come across as condescending, but I hated that you suffered in private.”

Mollie forced herself to meet her sister’s eyes. “I never wanted to want him. You have to know that.”

Madison waved a hand. “I do. Of course I know that. You don’t have a mean bone in your body, but Jackson . . . he’s always been your weakness.”

Mollie swallowed. “You know me well.”

“I do,” Madison said slowly. She reached across the table, her expression tentative. “I know Jackson well too, Mollie. And I know how charming he can be. I know how good it must feel when he seems to want you, but you have to trust me on this, Molls . . . this will not end well. For any of us.”

Mollie swallowed. There was a sureness in Madison’s tone and a confidence in the steadiness of her gaze that had Mollie’s heart pounding.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” Mollie said carefully. “I don’t know what happens next.”

Madison forced a smile and finished the rest of her wine. “Well, I think lunch is a bust—I vote we ask them to pack up our food. And maybe we should give each other some space. As far as you and me, I need some time to think. My head knows I’ll forgive you someday, but my heart hurts right now. Still, mistakes happen, and—”

“Hold on,” Mollie said. “I said I’m sorry this hurts you, and I’m sorry that the man I . . . care about is the same one you care about. But what’s between me and Jackson isn’t a mistake.”

“So are you guys, like, dating now?” Madison scoffed.

“No. I don’t know. It’s just . . . it’s more than a one-time thing. We’re seeing where it goes, and I just want—”

“You want what? My blessing? Do you want me to be maid of honor at your wedding? Give me a break, Mollie. That’s not going to happen.”

“What’s not going to happen, your blessing or my and Jackson’s wedding?”

“Neither!” Madison said, her voice rising again. “Mollie, I know you don’t want to hear this, but Jackson Burke is not looking for forever with you. You are his way of lashing back at me for my fling with Tyler and the other guys. Yes, I had lovers, and don’t you dare judge me, because you don’t know what it was like.”

“Would you quit with the whole Mollie-is-clueless routine? I may never know what your relationship with Jackson was like, but you don’t know what mine is like with him, and it’s . . .”

“It’s what?” Madison purred. “It’s different?”

“Yes,” Mollie said resolutely. “I don’t envy you navigating the world of dating a celebrity—of becoming one yourself. But Jackson’s not that guy anymore. The challenges you two had don’t apply to our life here in New York.”

“Your time with Jackson is a fraction of the time I spent with him. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course I can’t forget that! You think I don’t know that it’s early and complicated?” Mollie pleaded. “I know that better than anyone. But he makes me so happy.”

Madison said nothing.

Mollie’s eyes watered as she begged her sister to understand. “I love him, Maddie.”

Her sister’s blue gaze was cold as she sat back in her chair and stared at Mollie. “You love him? You don’t even know him, Mollie. Sure, you know the big brother Jackson, and you know that he’s fucking hot in bed, which I know too, by the way, but you don’t know—”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know.” Mollie’s temper snapped. “Yeah, I wasn’t his first love, and yeah, he didn’t chase me for years. Yeah, we won’t share all the firsts that you guys had. But I think I know him as well as you ever did. Maybe better. Who do you think he talked to every night when you were out with your girlfriends on that stupid Housewives show? Who do you think he called for help picking out every Christmas gift? I may have been on the sidelines, but at least I was there.”

Madison’s perfectly shaped eyebrows arched. “You went from apologetic to being on the offensive pretty quick there.”

Mollie squeezed her eyes shut. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Madison. I feel torn between the two most important people in my life. And like I said, I don’t expect instant forgiveness, and I don’t expect your blessing. I guess I just . . . You deserve the truth. And the truth is that I love him. I want a future with him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“In New York? A future with Jackson in New York?”

Mollie frowned. “Well, yeah. Where else?”

Madison studied her. “And where does Jackson stand on all this? Does he love you too? Does he want a future with you?”

Mollie flinched. Jackson’s silence on the whole thing was her Achilles’ heel, and she suspected her sister knew it.

Madison’s smile was cold and a little cruel as she crossed her arms on the table.

“You know how Jackson used to run to you and tell you all his secrets while he was married to me?”

Mollie swallowed dryly and nodded.

“Well”—Madison leaned forward even more—“guess what, sister darling. The tables have turned. Now he’s coming to me with all his secrets while he runs home to screw you.”

Mollie’s heart began to pound. “What secrets?”

“See, Molls, while you were busy falling in love, Jackson was busy trying to get his old life back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jackson accepted a coaching job with the Redhawks.”

Mollie felt the blood leave her face.

“Oh.” Madison made a fake sad face. “Did he not mention it?”

No, he had not mentioned it. He hadn’t even mentioned that he wanted a coaching job, much less that he’d accepted one.

Mollie racked her brain trying to think of a reason. An excuse. An explanation. But she had nothing.

He’d had every opportunity to tell her. To confide in her. Instead he’d confided in Madison.

Mollie stopped breathing for a moment as the rest of the pieces fell into place.

“That’s right,” Madison said, her voice resuming its usual sugary tone. “The new job means he’ll be coming back to Texas. Jackson’s coming home, Mollie. That’s why he told me instead of you. I’m his home.”

Mollie struggled to breathe as Madison stood, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “You know, on second thought, I don’t think I have an appetite.”

She pulled a few bills out of her wallet and dropped them on the table as she walked by, pausing when she stood even with Mollie’s chair.

Her sister’s hand touched her shoulder gently. “I love you, Mollie. I really do. But I’m sure you’ll understand why I won’t be asking you to be my maid of honor again at my and Jackson’s second wedding. And sweetie . . . there will be another wedding.”