I’m in a nightmare. I have to be. There’s no other explanation for Conrad showing up at this playground, right now, in the middle of the afternoon. There’s no reason except that the universe hates me and wants me to know it.

“Valentine!” He’d called my name just after I got Minnie into the swing and for one glorious second, I thought it was Ryder. But something about the tone seemed off, the voice was too high, and of course, it wasn’t him. My entire soul shriveled when I saw who it was, but I didn’t want to show that to Minnie. She giggled again and demanded another push on the swing.

“Ready, set, go!” I’d said, and she’d laughed as the swing went forward.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer Conrad, but that didn’t stop him from getting closer. “Valentine, hey.”

“Hey,” I said.

“How’ve you been doing?”

I stared at him.

“Ready, sec, go!” cried Minnie.

“Ready, set, go!” I said, pushing the swing. “Hi, Conrad.” It was more of a struggle than I thought to keep my voice under control. “What are you doing here?”

“Seriously, Valentine?” He’d said the words lightly, with the hint of a laugh, but his voice made my skin crawl. Then he’d sidled even closer, which is the current situation. It’s a conversation I really don’t want to be having, but what can I do? Minnie is having such a good time. I can’t yank her out of the swing without warning. I don’t want Ryder to show up when I’m taking her away from the park in tears. I desperately want her to have a good day, so I push her again. “I told you I would be in town.”

That must have been the text I got from him, but why would I pay attention to that when I was with Ryder? I almost laugh out loud, but then he’d want me to explain it, and I don’t want to get into that. I definitely don’t want to get into that. “I must have missed that part of your message.” And every part of your message after you lost your damn mind over a possible pregnancy and then, oh, ruined my first-ever job.

“I think we should talk.” Conrad crosses his arms over his chest. He thinks the pose makes him look intimidating. At one time I might have found it vaguely attractive to see him like that, but now it makes me want to roll my eyes.

“I don’t.”

Conrad laughs. “You’ve always been funny.”

I look at him like he’s from another planet, which he might as well be. Conrad has never appreciated my sense of humor. Playful interludes were never his thing and forget banter.

“I’m not being funny.” I have to keep my tone level because Minnie is hearing everything. She doesn’t seem to have noticed the tension in the air. I silently thank God for swing sets. “We’re over, Conrad. I don’t think we should be talking.” I nod at Minnie. “Plus, I’m busy.”

“Babysitting?” He shakes his head, clicking his teeth. “God, Valentine. If I’d known you were running back here to pick up all your high school jobs, I’d have—”

“You’d have what?” My voice is too sharp, and Minnie swivels her head around to look at me. “Hi, sweetheart,” I say. “A few more minutes on the swing, and then we’re going to go get ice cream. Okay?” 

“No!” she howls. Okay. Too late. She has to have picked up on the strain in the air, and, like every toddler, she’s going to react negatively. Also, this is a great swing set. I can see why she doesn’t want to leave, but we have to go. 

I turn to Conrad. “There was no reason for you to do anything, Conrad. None whatsoever. What happened between us was private.” It’s coming back to me in a flood of shame, and I hate the blush that rises to my cheeks. It’s a sick, embarrassed feeling. For a moment, I’m right back in the office, sweating through my skirt suit in front of my manager while he runs through some slick speech he’s practiced for when he has to “let people go.” I didn’t “represent the integrity of the company.” Never mind that it hadn’t been what we thought. Never mind that I had been mistaken.

But Conrad—Conrad hadn’t even been willing to give it a week. It was all said and done before my late period arrived. I’ll never know if it was really a pregnancy—one of those early miscarriages—or just the stress of graduation and the new job. But what I’ll never forget was the relief on Conrad’s face when I told him. His words ring in my ears even now. Thank God. Can you imagine what kind of mother you’d have been?

There was nothing left to do after that but pack up and get out.

I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk to you.” I catch the swing, bringing it to a gentle stop. “Minnie, let’s get some ice cream!”

Conrad laughs out loud, stepping even closer. I don’t dare flinch away. I don’t dare back up a single step. I don’t know why the hell he’s doing this, but when the laugh dies out his voice is urgent and strange. “I made a mistake, Valentine, can’t you see that? I think you owe me a conversation.”

He’s standing so close that I can’t lift Minnie out of the swing without running into him, and the last thing I want is for her to brush against him. I don’t think about it, I just step in between them, putting my own body between his idiotic self and the swing. My back brushes against his chest and I flinch away. I don’t want to be anywhere near him.

Conrad, though, wants to be near me. And it’s at this moment that he mistakes my flinching, or deliberately misreads it, as some kind of excitement, reaches down, turns my face toward him, and kisses me.

I rear back, opening my mouth to snap at him, raising my hand to slap him, when he’s yanked back away from me. The collar of his shirt pulls his neck back like he’s a cartoon character and my hand swipes at empty air.

“Ice cream?” says Minnie and Ryder is next to her, out of nowhere, lifting her out of the swing. I’m absolutely flooded with relief. Now we can all get out of here, and—

“Sure thing,” he tells her, pulling her close. But when I meet his eyes, there’s nothing there but a bottomless rage. He’s hiding it from Minnie, but barely. “Let’s go.”