Pamela raised her gaze to the person walking into the deserted cafe. “What can I get—” The words died on her lips, the familiar face bringing memories she eagerly tried to bury.

“Hi, Pamela.” The blonde gave a half-hearted smile as she clutched a large wicker basket in her hand. “I’m Cassie from Shot of Sin.”

“I know. We’ve met before.” The woman was T.J.’s wife and a regular participant at the Vault.

“Sometimes we’re not easily recognizable with our clothes on.” The faux tilt of her lips increased.

“I suppose so.” Pamela grabbed the portafilter from the coffee machine and dumped the used puck into the refuse chute. “What can I get for you?”

“Actually, I’ve got something for you.” Cassie raised the basket and placed it on the counter. “This is yours.”

“Why?” She paused the cleaning routine and scoped the contents of the basket from the corner of her eye. Inside lay an array of different items. Two bottles of wine. Chips. Bar nuts. A small bottle of vodka. Along with other things hidden beneath.

“I hoped you might be able to tell me the answer to that. Bryan asked me to deliver it to you.”

“Bryan?” She raised a disbelieving brow. “He asked you to deliver me a basket of goodies?” The same Bryan who had been nicknamed for his brutality? The same Bryan who told her their time together was over? “Sorry. I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

The woman broke eye contact.

“Why are you really here, Cassie?” She shoved the portafilter back into the machine and slid along the counter, meeting the woman face to face. “We both know he didn’t send you here.”

There was a beat of silence while T.J.’s wife turned a bright shade of pink. “Wow.” She gave an awkward chuckle. “I thought this would’ve played out a little longer than five seconds.”

“Bryan playing Santa is as far-fetched as it gets.” Pamela struggled to keep her tone friendly.

“I guess. I just thought things between the two of you may have been different.”

It was Pamela’s turn to crumple under the burn of reddening cheeks. “Nope. You’re wrong there, too.” She glanced away, meeting Kim’s gaze as she strode from the kitchen. “Bryan has no need to get back in contact with me.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Cassie reached into the basket and pulled out a pristine envelope. “He wanted you to have this.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t bel—”

“Look, it even has your name on it. It’s a refund for your membership. He wanted to make sure you were reimbursed.”

Pamela crossed her arms over her chest, determined not to buy what she was selling, even though her heart wanted to. The only communication she’d had from Bryan was a lone, emotionless text. He hadn’t mentioned what they’d shared or how he felt. He’d only spoken about her books. The damn cancer reminders.

“I promise he wanted you to have this.” Cassie handed it over. “He just may have planned to mail it to you. That’s all. The basket was an excuse for me to see you.”

“And why would you want to do that?” She ignored the offering as Kim came up beside her, hovering close.

Cassie eyed them both, appearing more fragile than deceptive. “Have you got time to talk?”

“Not really. I’m working.” She ignored the empty cafe and the fact it was less than thirty minutes from closing.

“Please.” It wasn’t a request. It was a plea. “It’s important.”

“Hear her out.” Kim nudged her elbow. “You’re not going to sleep tonight if you send her away. Listen to what she has to say, and we’ll deal with it from there.”

“It won’t take long,” Cassie added.

Pamela closed her eyes, silently praying for strength. It wouldn’t need to take more than five seconds to cause mayhem. She’d already hovered on the precipice. The last few weeks had drained her. She constantly analyzed what they’d shared and what she could’ve done differently. She couldn’t stop thinking that there’d been more. More emotion and affection. More connection sizzling under the surface.

Yes, she’d thought the same thing about Lucas, but once he’d passed, those feelings had, too. The reality of their marriage had bled into her memories, allowing her to see how wrong she’d been to expect anything more than friendship and sex from her husband. He’d been explicit. Not only in his words, but in his actions. He hadn’t wanted anything from her. Not love. Not affection. Just someone to care for him in his final months. And not once had he wavered.

But with Bryan, she couldn’t let go.

Everything between them was different. He contradicted the space he tried to place between them by selflessly pleasuring her, by listening to her past marriage problems, by taking the books that served as a painful reminder of Lucas and giving them away respectfully. He’d flirted with her, laughed, joked, bought wine and dinner. He’d taken her out. He’d desired her.

And those kisses. Every brush and sweep of his tongue had told a story about something more than sex.

“Whatever happened between you two, he’s not coping, Pamela.”

That made her eyes open and her heart climb to her throat. “What do you mean?”

“He had a scare today.” Cassie straightened to her full height. “A panic attack. A complete meltdown. Or something similar. And he won’t talk to any of us about it.”

The heavy doses of affection for a man she’d tried to forget came rushing back in a torrential flood. “A panic attack?”

Cassie sighed. “It might not seem like a big deal, but for Bryan—”

“No. I get it.” He was bound by control. Entirely guarded. If he’d broken, she knew it must be due to something unfathomably horrible. “What happened?” She didn’t want to care, but she did. She cared so much her chest fractured a little.

“He left a work meeting early, which wasn’t unexpected with his recent mood. He’s been grumpier than usual since he canceled the demonstration night.”

He’d canceled? Her insides grated over exposed heartstrings.

“You didn’t know?” Cassie scrutinized her.

“No.” Pamela shook her head. “But I’m nobody to him. There’s no reason I should’ve known.”

“I thought the two of you were close. Shay told me he had dinner at your apartment and took you to a bar. To him, that’s—”

“Our time together was an effort to convince me to be his demo assistant. That’s all. Nothing more.”

“Right…” Cassie straightened. “I just thought—”

“Maybe something happened with his mother.” She was sick of the speculation. Each question only made her stupidity more apparent. “He had a lot on his mind about his family.”

“He told you about them?” Cassie frowned.

“Only about his mother’s cancer. Maybe she took a turn, and he isn’t taking it well.” She shrugged, becoming increasingly overwhelmed with the layers of confusion and annoyance beaming back at her.

“He told you his mother has cancer?”

“Yeah… Why?” She shot a glance at Kim, wordlessly asking for emotional backup. “Doesn’t she?”

“I don’t know. Bryan has never spoken to me about his family. And from what T.J.'s mentioned, he hasn’t brought up his parents in years.”

“Oh…” Her mouth formed a circle that cemented in place.

“Yeah, oh. You seem to be the only person he’s opened up to in a really long time.”

“He didn’t open up.” The tiny glimpse of insight hadn’t been anything remotely monumental. “It was a brief mention.”

“A brief mention that his mom has cancer?” Cassie raised her brows. “Pamela, believe me, if he even mentioned his parents, he was opening up. He doesn’t share information about his past. He barely shares anything at all.”

The woman sighed and relaxed her worried expression. “Like I was saying, he left the meeting early and retreated to the office where he’s been hibernating for weeks. Five minutes later, we hear a huge crash and rush upstairs to find him tearing the place apart. There were books and files everywhere. The desk had been cleared with everything shoved to the floor. Including this.”

Cassie handed over the envelope again, and this time Pamela took it.

“Is he okay?”

“Physically, yes. But mentally? Emotionally? No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think he is. Not at all. But he won’t talk to us. So, that’s why I’m here. While the two of you were spending time together, he was happy.”

“He told you that?”

Cassie released a huff of laughter. “No. Like I said, Bryan doesn’t open up. We have to watch and take subtle hints. He started smiling instead of bearing his usual scowl. He was joking around a lot more, too. Leo and T.J. tracked his unusual behavior, and you were their conclusion.” Cassie paused, probably waiting for a reaction Pamela wasn’t willing to give. “You’re the only one who’s been close with him lately. Which is why I thought, if I came here and begged, maybe you’d speak to him.”

Kim cleared her throat, the noise a subtle warning not to take the bait.

“Look, I understand your position and the concern.” Pamela shot a look at her sister, then returned her focus to Cassie. “But what Bryan wants is for me to stay away. He made that clear.”

“Are you sure? Telling you about his mother is a huge move for him. It’s more than he’s ever given me, and I’ve been his friend for years.”

“Cassie, he literally slept with me and five seconds later told me our association was over. Five seconds,” she repeated. “Maybe even two.”

The woman winced.

“See?” She slid back to the coffee machine to keep her hands busy. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

“You won’t even try?”

“Why is she obligated to?” Kim grated. “He discarded her like garbage.”

“Don’t—” Pamela pressed her lips tight, breathing through the need to defend him. Kim was right. But her stupid, idiotic heart didn’t like hearing the truth from someone else.

“You like him.” Cassie’s expression softened, the friendship turning to compassion.

“Understatement.” Kim scoffed.

“Kim.” She scowled at her sister. “Go finish up out back.”

“Sorry. Was that supposed to be a secret?”

No. But it was personal. She didn’t want Cassie sliding her into the Brute-groupie category, even though that was exactly where she needed to be. “Give me a minute, okay?”

Her sister sighed and made for the kitchen doors.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this harder on you.” Cassie’s voice held sincerity. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re the reason he’s been in seclusion for the last few weeks. He’s showing signs of heartbreak.”

“Pfft. I’m not convinced he has a heart at all.”

Cassie’s lips thinned into a sad smile. “Do you really believe that?”

Yes.

No.

Christ, she didn’t know what to believe anymore. “I think you need to ask him about his family. Maybe then he’ll talk to you about his mother.”

“Okay.” Cassie gave a solemn nod. “But I still think he’d really appreciate seeing you.”

“If he needs me, he knows where to find me.”

“You’ve gotta understand, a man like Bryan won’t ask for help in words. He’s not going to blurt it out. What he’s doing is showing how badly he needs someone, and the four of us—Shay, Leo, T.J., and myself—aren’t good enough. He needs you.”

“This isn’t fair.” If he’d made a mistake and wanted to see her again, he needed to come crawling back. Not the other way around.

“He’s a good man, Pamela. He’s one of the best. He just doesn’t like to show it.”

“I know.” She’d figured that out herself, which had made his rejection all the harder to bear. He was a great guy, who shared a sexual attraction with her, and still he preferred to be alone.

Cassie backtracked toward the door. “Well, if you change your mind, or want to talk, you can always find me at the club.”

“Wait.” Pamela grabbed the envelope and rushed around the counter. “I don’t want this.”

“Then give it back to him. Or rip it up. Either way, I don’t want it either.” She continued onto the sidewalk. “It was nice seeing you.” Cassie gave a gentle finger-wave, then walked out of view, leaving numbness in her wake.

There was no point running after her. There was no strength or energy.

“Goddamn it.” Instead, she pulled the cafe doors shut and flicked over the closed sign.

“You’re thinking about going to see him, aren’t you?” Kim spoke from the kitchen.

“I can’t help it.” She rested her head against the glass. “If he’s going through something…”

“What?” The swinging kitchen doors whooshed open. “What are you going to do for him?”

“I don’t know.” She turned and dragged her feet back to the coffee machine. “What if Cassie’s right? What if he needs me?”

“Pamela.” Her name was a placation.

“I know. I know.” She pulled the basket toward her and peeked inside. “You think I’m doing the same thing I did with Lucas.”

Kim approached, meeting her gaze from the other side of the counter. “Aren’t you?”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

The one-word question required a far bigger answer. One she wasn’t sure she could convey with conviction when everything was uncertain.

“Pamela? Explain it to me. Make me understand why you’re doing this to yourself again.”

“Because this time it was real,” she admitted. “With Bryan, it wasn’t just about hoping for more. I could actually feel it. I could’ve sworn he felt the same way.”

She placed the envelope back in the basket.

“You were wrong before. You thought the same about Lucas.”

“No. I expected the same from Lucas. But I never felt it, and he never once showed it. I stupidly thought he owed me his affection after everything I did for him. I became infatuated with the thought of us being in love. I know that now.”

“And maybe in a few years’ time, you’ll have the hindsight to explain this situation, too.”

Pamela cringed. She didn’t want to think about Bryan for years. Not if she couldn’t be with him.

“I want you to be happy.” Kim gave a half-hearted smile. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve someone who adores you.”

“Then what should I do?”

“We should upgrade your standard pity party into something sponsored by your sexy club. Look.” She pulled out one of the bottles from the basket. “We’ve got vodka.”

“And wine.”

“Two bottles.” Kim waggled her brows. “And your light ass wouldn’t even need one.” She continued looking through the basket, her fingers pausing on the envelope. “Do you mind if I take a look? I’ve always wanted to know how much you pay to get laid.”

Pamela rolled her eyes. “Go for it.” She was curious to find out the monetary value herself. What price had he placed on her broken heart? Had he refunded her membership for the exact number of months she wouldn’t attend? Or would he add more insult to her emotional injuries by giving her added compensation?

Kim carefully opened the back and pulled out a slip of paper, the piece no bigger than a business card. “Are you sure there’s supposed to be a refund in here?”

“That’s what Cassie said.” She pressed onto the tips of her toes, trying to catch a glimpse of the contents.

“Well, this definitely isn’t a check.” Kim placed the paper back inside the envelope and handed it over. “Take a look.”

It was a standard size, nothing special, apart from her full first name scribbled on the front. There was no nickname this time. And there was no check inside, either. Not even cash.

She retrieved the scrap of paper and felt the blood rush from her face. “A funeral notice…”

Her heart squeezed, tighter and tighter until she couldn’t take it anymore. She blinked through her rapidly blurring vision to read the heartbreaking words resting in her palm.

MUNRO, Pamela Sue of Tampa aged 55 years.

Dearly loved wife of Raymond Thomas Munro. Mother of Bryan Munro. Cherished sister to Andrew and Kylie, and aunt to Silvia, Tyler, Jackson, and Tera.

Relatives and friends are respectfully invited to attend a funeral service for Pamela, which will be held in the chapel at 17 Day Street on the 1^st of May, commencing at 10 a.m. to be followed by interment in the cemetery.

No flowers by request. Donations to your preferred cancer charity appreciated.

“His mom,” she whispered. That’s why he’d always called her Ella. “She must’ve died weeks ago. Around the same time I ignored his text message.” Guilt and regret bubbled inside her, coming out in the form of a dry sob.

He’d reached out. He’d wanted a shoulder. And she’d ignored him.

“Hey, now. Don’t get crazy.” Kim came around the counter. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“But he’s not. Didn’t you hear what Cassie said? He’s falling apart and won’t even talk to his friends about it. They don’t even know his mother died.”

“And what makes you think he’ll talk to you? You’re only going to get hurt.”

Too late. She was already straddling heartache and limbo. “I need to see him.”

“Sweetie…” Kim placed a gentle hand on her elbow. “Please don’t.”

“You know I have to do this. I can’t keep questioning myself. Either way, I have to get answers.” She grabbed her handbag from under the register. “Would you mind closing up for me?”

“Only if you call as soon as you finish talking to him.” Kim placed her hands on her hips. “And grant me permission to knee-cap him if he upsets you.”

“He’s grieving—”

“Kneecaps or no deal.”

“Fine. You can do whatever you like if this turns sour.” She’d deal with the possibility of having to lie to her sister later. For now, she had to get to the club. To ease her pain, and hopefully his. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”