My body shakes so badly I battle to walk back to my desk. Flopping down in the chair, I wrap my arms around myself. I’m breaking apart inside. Brian is a man of his word. He means what he says. He’ll take what I give, even if it hurts, and I don’t want to hurt him. I’ve been cruel. I saw it coming, and I did nothing to stop it. I selfishly took the physical release he gave me, knowing very well his actions went way beyond. Installing security equipment, finding me a place to rent, moving my furniture, these aren’t acts of a man who’s only in it for the sex.

I lean my head against the cool surface of the desk, inhaling the fragrance of wood polish. It’s not that I’m hurting less than Brian. It’s that my guilt is bigger. Yes, I knew every step of the way where this was going to lead. To a futile dream and a dead end. There are many problems facing me, the biggest being the Monroe account, but I can’t think. I can’t operate. I can’t do anything but feel, feel, feel.

It’s agonizing, but I’m grateful. For how long have I prayed for this during my long, emotionless existence after Evan’s death? To feel something. Now I do. In abundance. So much so I can’t function.

Picking up my phone, I dial the only person I can. Dorothy.

“Jane, this is a surprise.”

“Are you free?”

“What, now?”

“Yes.”

“I have aqua gym, but I can wiggle out of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t. Where do you want to meet?”

We agree on a nearby tearoom. Thirty minutes later, we’re sat across from each other. I stopped to buy a scarf from the clothing store next-door to hide Brian’s marks on my neck and am only a couple of minutes late.

“What’s going on?” Dorothy asks, getting straight to the point.

I don’t have time to waste either. “I met someone.”

“I knew it.” She flicks her fingers. “There was something different about you the last time we met.”

“He’s half my age.”

“Oh. Like twenty-one?”

“Nineteen, actually.”

“Oh. So, it’s the sex.”

“Why does everyone assume that?”

“Sorry. You’re right. That was a horrible cliché. Is it? The sex?”

“Yes and more.”

“You like him.”

“He likes me, too.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“He wants to go public.”

“I see.” She leans back and studies me. “You don’t.”

“We work together. What do I tell Abby? How will his friends look at me when we go out on a date?”

“Those are obstacles, not reasons to shun a potential relationship.”

“A relationship going where?”

“Not all relationships are meant to go somewhere. It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy each other while it lasts. You’re both single, consenting adults. Why do you care about your colleagues, his friends, or even Abby?”

“Abby’s my daughter.”

“Your daughter needs to understand that you’re more than a mother. You’re also a woman.”

“She may be too young to grasp that.”

“I think you underestimate her. She’s almost thirteen, not three.”

“Are you saying, I should give it a shot?”

“I’m saying you should do what you want. You bloody hell earned it, don’t you think?”

“Did I?”

“Jane,” her voice is stern, “you’ve been mourning a man for years, and you’re still paying for a mistake that…” She swallows and blinks away a tear. “A mistake that’s mine.”

“Dorothy, please.”

“Let me finish. You married a man you didn’t love because he took advantage of you when you were weak.”

“Dorothy!”

“I’m not bloody done. You’ve been living dead. I’ve seen you more alive the last time we met than in twelve years. If you’re making up excuses because you’re afraid of getting hurt, grow up. What you and this man of yours do has nothing to do with anyone but the two of you. If you want to announce it to the world, go for it. If you enjoy sex with him, I hope it’s a blast. If it doesn’t last, own it. No one can judge you for it.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not what you wanted to hear?”

“I don’t know what I expected.”

“That’s not true. You expected me to give you the truth, and that’s what I’ve done.”

“Damn.” I reach for her hand. “You should’ve been my mother-in-law, you know that?”

“Instead, you have a friend.” Pain flashes through her eyes, but she frowns it away.

“I’ve been trying to do the right thing all my life.”

“I know. This is a good time to stop. If you want to sleep with the king of Andorra, it’s nobody’s business.”

I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face. “Who’s the king of Andorra?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully, someone Spanish and handsome and filthy rich.”

This makes me laugh. The heaviness lifts from my chest. “Thank you, Dorothy.”

She gives my hand a squeeze. “Shall we order? And I need to go to the powder room. All that talking made my lipstick run into the wrinkles around my lips.”

I watch her as she makes her way to the ladies’ room. I know she’s escaping to go wipe away her tears, and I grant her the space. I love her so darn much, I dare say more than I loved my own mother. I’ve loved her from the word go, which is why I’d do just about anything for her, why I’d done what I did.

I feel considerably better when I get back to the office. Brian looks up from his desk in the open-plan space when I enter. His eyes darken when they fall on the scarf around my neck.

I run my fingertips over his desk as I pass. “We need to talk.”

He catches my wrist. “When?”

Candice looks our way. Her attention hones in on where his fingers are locked around my arm. A few others are staring, too.

“After your exam.”

“Before.”

I know that obstinate look. He’s not going to budge, and I don’t want to argue in front of the whole floor of workers.

“I’ll ask a friend to pick Abby up from school.”

He releases me slowly. “Five o’clock, when we knock off. I’ll wait.”

All eyes are on me as I enter my office. I shut the curious stares behind my door and sit down to get some work done.

The minutes tick by like hours, every other priority dimming in the light of what lies ahead. When five o’clock finally comes, I’m a nervous wreck. This can be our beginning, but it can just as well be our end. I’m not sure how Brian is going to take it.

We take his truck and drive to our favorite dead-end road. He cuts the engine but doesn’t look at me.

Gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turn white, he says, “Talk, Jane.”

“No more hiding.”

He turns his head toward me quickly, releasing his death grip on the wheel. “Do you mean that, or are you saying so because I pushed you into a corner?”

“I mean it.”

One by one, his muscles give until his posture is relaxed.

“Why?” he asks.

“Why what?”

“Why did you make the decision?”

“Isn’t it enough that I made it?”

“No. I want to be sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

“I was–am–afraid of getting hurt.”

He twists in his seat and cups my cheek. “So am I. You have no idea, but you’re worth the risk. I’m not going to hurt you. You have my word.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m not letting you go. No matter what.”

It’s a serious statement, one that requires commitment, and not just the sexual I-won’t-run-around-on-you kind of commitment, but the kind that comes with death doing couples apart. Something about it lodges in my mind, like a red flag waving from very far, in sight but out of grasp. I don’t take time to analyze it, though, because he grips my face between his palms and kisses me hard. My knees turn weak as he spears my lips, eating my mouth exactly like he goes down on me–like it’s never enough. I moan when I run out of breath, pushing on his shoulders for air.

He lets me go an inch. His gaze is intense as it settles on my face. “How long do we have?”

“Loretta said Abby could stay for dinner.” Setting me aside almost brusquely, he starts the engine. “Where are we going?”

“To get your car.”

It’s hard to hide my disappointment. “Already?”

“Then we’re going back to your place.”

My stomach flutters. I’m a puddle of pathetically happy endorphins.

He throws the truck into gear.

“What about your studies?” I ask. “And Sam and your mom?”

“My studies are up to date. I have a friend watching out for my sister and mom. I’ll be home in time to make dinner.”

My heart swells for the man he is, because even if he’s barely past the legal age, he’s more of a man than most men I know.

Peak hour is past when we get back to the office. It doesn’t take us long to drive to the cottage. The minute Jane closes the door behind us, I tell her how the evening is going to go down.

On my terms.

I need this.

To give her the freedom she deserves, the freedom in which she will blossom and thrive, I need her to surrender her control. Even freedom has borders. Rules. These are my rules. She’ll stay with me, and she can do and have whatever she wants. I’ll do whatever it takes.

“I want to take you,” I say, watching her from the door.

She stands in the middle of the lounge. A lamp illuminates the space. The light makes her platinum hair glow.

“I want you, too,” she whispers.

“I wasn’t finished.” I close the distance so that I can undo the knot of the silk scarf around her neck. I want to see the marks I left on her skin. It’s depraved, but I like it. “I want to take you from behind.”

She stares up at me, waiting for me to continue.

“I want to take you from behind with a butt plug stuck in your tight little ass.”

Her breathing accelerates then stops as I brush my knuckles over the hard tips of her tits.

“I want to take you from behind with a butt plug in your asshole and film every dirty minute of it.”

She inhales on a gasp.

“And you’re going to let me,” I finish.

“I–I don’t know.”

Reaching for the zipper on the side of her dress, I pull it down. “What don’t you know?”

“I’m not sure about the filming.”

“You’re going to love it.”

“Brian–”

“You trust me, remember?”

She catches her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Do you trust me, Jane?”

There’s no hesitation. No reflection. “Yes.”

Her trust is the most powerful aphrodisiac. It gives me the control I crave, the power I need to give her freedom within a prison she doesn’t know she’s in. It doesn’t matter. I’ll make her prison a castle. She’ll be my princess. Forever.

“Say it again.” It sounds like a command, but it’s a plea.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Good.” I let her go, having initiated the undressing. “Take it all off.”

She slips the dress over her arms and down her hips. Her underwear is the same color as her skin. I can guess the darker patches of her areolas and pubic hair through the lace, and it turns me harder than what I already was.

Her shoes follow next, and then the thigh-high stockings she favors. Her breasts fall free when she unclasps the bra. Firm and perfectly shaped with that slight downward dip, they’re the prettiest curves I’ve seen. Her pussy lips are hidden under golden hair, but I know she’ll be wet and tight on my cock.

My voice is gruff. “Hands and knees, on the bed.”

I get a full view of her tight ass when she turns for the bedroom. My cock leaks pre-cum already. It’s going to be hard to hold myself back.

Following in her footsteps, I’m the voyeur who watches as she obeys my command. She crawls onto the mattress, ass in the air and legs spread. The sight sends my libido into overdrive. Her pussy is already blushing pink and swollen. Moisture covers the outer lips. I place my phone on the nightstand before undressing quickly. Naked, I round the bed, dragging a palm over her back and slipping a finger down her crack to her slit.

“Do you have a butt plug?”

She shakes her head.

“Your vibrator will do.”

“I’m not sure–”

I slap her ass. Hard. She yelps.

“You trust me,” I remind her, massaging the sting away. “Say it.”

“I trust you.”

I’ll wring those words from her as many times as I have to, just because they’re music to my ears and fuel to my lust. Opening her nightstand drawer, I withdraw the toy and lube before climbing between her legs.

She glances at me from over her shoulder when I squirt a generous amount of lube down the crack of her ass.

“You’re going to love every minute.” I want to reassure her, because she’s tensing up. “Take a deep breath. That’s good. Now blow out.”

When she exhales, I penetrate her ass with one finger. She wiggles a bit, but she takes me easily. A few pumps relax the tight ring of muscle, enough to stretch her with two fingers. It’s not a big vibrator. She’ll take it without pain. She moans when I pull out. Lubricating the vibrator, I push the tip against her anus.

“Deep breath.”

She obliges. The blunt head spears her little rosebud. It takes more work to fit the rest, but I take my time. I don’t want to tear her. When we get to the thickest part, I pinch her clit, rolling the nub between my forefinger and thumb. She arches her back and clenches her ass, sucking the toy deeper and past the thickest part.

I love playing with her like this. I love looking at her like this. She’ll get on all fours and dirty for me just because I want her to. Me, I’ll do anything for her.

“How are you doing, princess?” I ask, smoothing my palms up her back.

“Good.”

I flick the switch on the vibrator, going straight for the highest setting.

Her back dips and her muscles tighten under my hands. “Oh, my God.”

“Better?”

“Y–yes.”

I knead her shoulders and massage her back until her body relaxes again, telling me she’s adapted to the sensations in her ass. Dripping more lube around the intrusion in her asshole, I pull it out an inch and slide it back in. Her moan is the sign that she’s enjoying this, that she can take more. I start fucking her ass gently with the vibrator. The tight ring stretches to take the toy, and my own ass clenches at the erotic sight. I study her pretty pussy from every angle as I make her ass work for me. Slipping the toy in all the way, I twist left and right before giving two shallow pumps. I find her clit and flick a finger over the nub while repeating the rhythm in her ass. A few seconds like this, and her arms collapse. She goes down on her elbows, her face sideways on the mattress.

“Stay like that.” For good measure, I slap her pretty globe.

She moans and rolls her hips, greedy for more.

I set the focus of the video function on my phone and check the screen. With my arms around her waist, I drag her diagonally across the mattress until I have the view I’m looking for. Perfect. From this angle, I’ve got her splayed pussy and face in the picture. I activate the recording.

Time to get down to business.

The foreplay has primed her pussy. I don’t have to check to know she’s ready, but I drag a finger through her slit, anyway. She whimpers when I rub the wetness I’ve gathered around her clit. Grabbing her hip in one hand and my cock in the other, I position the head at her entrance. I nudge to give her a warning, and then drive home. She cries out, raw ecstasy transforming her pretty face, but she takes me beautifully. My balls are pressed against her ass. I’m as deep as I can go. Her heat is sleek and tight, her cunt lips stretched wide to accommodate me. I’m glad I’m filming this. The sight is too pretty not to enjoy over and over again. Her pussy tightens on my cock. I can feel the vibrations from the toy in her ass. I’m not going to last long.

I pull out until only the head of my cock is lodged in her cunt and slam back in. My thrusts are deep and fast, rougher than I intended, but I’m chasing both of our releases. The power with which I’m ramming into her pushes her body forward. Her legs give in, and she collapses flat on her stomach. I lift and hold her with an arm under her waist while I’m punishing us both with hard pleasure. She grunts with the force of every thrust, her breasts and body swaying from the impact. The sound of me fucking the air from her lungs mixes with the low hum of the toy and our groins slapping together. The room smells like sex, feminine sweat, and her grapefruit perfume. The sensations are overwhelming. I’m lost in us, everything but my senses absent. I’m an addict to this. This is my obsession.

My climax starts building at the base of my spine, pulling my balls tight and high. She needs a little extra to get there with me. My palm comes down high on her ass cheek, jiggling the toy. She screams. Begs. Her words are incoherent, but the way she slams back as I shove deep is an affirmation that she wants this as hard as I do. I need to stay in control. I count each spank I deliver until I reach ten and her ass is red on both sides.

“Touch yourself,” I command.

Obediently, her hand moves between her legs. It’s a grueling pace. I’m fucking her pussy raw while she’s rubbing herself and her dark hole is filled to the brink.

“You’re with me,” I say, thrusting the meaning into her. “You’ll stay with me. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

It’s her desperate gasp and the way her muscles lock that sends me over. My load shoots in her cunt, filling her up as she comes on my cock. My dick swells inside her. My back pulls crooked as her pussy milks the last jets of cum until I’m empty and she’s shaking.

Reaching over her, I switch off the video function on the phone. I barely have enough strength to catch my weight on my arms and not crush her. We’re breathing in tandem, our pants evidence of how hard we both came. I kiss her shoulder and the marks I left in her neck. I kiss my way down her spine until my cock slips out and cum runs down her thighs. I let her lie down on her stomach to wiggle the vibrator from her ass. She whimpers, but she’s boneless. Hell, so am I.

My arms protest as I push up. My skin feels raw all over, even where our bodies didn’t touch. There’s heat in my pores and deep satisfaction in my gut. I plant a kiss at the top of her crack, and drag myself to my feet and to the bathroom, where I wash the toy and wet a hand towel with warm water to clean her.

She doesn’t contest my administrations. When I’ve wiped away the lube and cum, I fall down beside her and pull her into my arms. Then I kiss her, long and slow. Our tongues tangle in a sweet cool-down of the extreme passion we’ve shared. I want to kiss her like this forever. Tonight might have been on my terms, but she holds all the power. Always has. From the first moment she stepped out onto her deck to confront me in her pool. This woman can be the end of me if I let her. It’ll be the end of me if she leaves me, but I’ll never let her. I allow the knowledge to still the fear and uncertainty that worm their way into my gut at the startling revelation of exactly how much she means.

More than anything.

Without her, my life suddenly seems colorless. Black and white.

She stirs in my arms. “I have to pick up Abby soon.”

From the lethargic look on her face I know it’s hard for her to move. Picking her up in my arms, I carry her to the shower and give us both a quick rinse-down. She pulls on a T-shirt and yoga pants when we’re done, watching me as I get dressed.

When I reach for my phone, she asks, “What are you going to do with that?”

I know what she’s referring to. “Keep it.”

“For how long?”

As long as I’m planning on keeping her. “Don’t worry. It’s for our eyes only.”

“I know.”

I cup her nape and pull her closer. “Kiss me.”

She presses not only her lips, but her whole body against me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You will.”

“I’m sorry you can’t stay.”

“Me, too.”

“Good luck for your studies. Will you send me a text before you go to sleep?”

I smile. “What would you like me to say?”

“Anything.”

“Then it will be anything.” Anything she wants.

She gathers her bag and keys and walks me out. I insist on following her at least to Groenkloof where her friend lives. You never know. When I wave goodbye at her exit, I feel oddly alone.

We’re public, but we’re not together. Not yet. I’m a greedy bastard, always wanting more when I get what I want, but it’s hard not to want everything with Jane.

“I have a favor to ask,” Brian says, curling one of my short locks around his finger.

We’re lying on a blanket under the shade of a willow tree at the edge of the water. The picnic by the dam next to the cottage was my idea to take a break between Brian’s exams while Abby is with Francois for the weekend.

“Ah ha. I knew there was a price for helping me move,” I joke.

He remains serious. “Sam has a party in a few weekends’ time.”

“Yes?” I wait for him to elaborate.

“It’s important to her. You know better than me how girls are. She’s worried she won’t wear the right clothes or do her hair the right way.”

“She’s worried she won’t fit in.”

“She’s worried she’ll look fat. She needs an outfit, and I’m not the best candidate to give her fashion advice.”

“Would you like me to take her shopping?”

“If you don’t mind.” He brushes the curl from my face. “I know you’re tied up with work and Abby’s exams.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. How about in two weeks, when I don’t have Abby? It’ll give us time to do it right.”

“I didn’t know there was a wrong way.”

“Shopping for the right outfit means trying on many. It’s hungry and thirsty work. We’ll have to stop for carrot cake and hot chocolate.”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but Sam needs to lose weight, not pick up more.”

“A treat on a special occasion isn’t going to hurt. It’s all about the balance.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” He rests his palm on my belly, tracing a thumb around my navel. “Eugene is having a party next Saturday. It’s his birthday.”

“You don’t have to warn me if you’re planning on getting trashed.” I wink. “I’m not the jealous type who waits up.”

“Actually,” he raises his gaze from my stomach, watching me intently, “I’m inviting you to come.”

It catches me by surprise. “To Eugene’s party?”

“With me.”

We haven’t been out together since we’ve decided to go public. We’ve both been caught up in family responsibilities, work, and exams. Neither have we told anyone, yet. We’ve decided to keep it quiet at the office, regardless. A relationship with his boss will make Brian’s appointment look biased, and he’s doing a great job. I’d hate to see him get fired over personal interests when he’s got his future cut out for him at Orion.

“It’s at Playback in Hatfield,” he continues.

His fingers play lightly over my stomach as he carries on, watching me with that look. Fear. Fear of rejection. He’s worried I’ll decline.

“I’d love to go with you.”

His relief is palpable. “It’ll be a bunch of pimple-faced asses.”

“I know what a student party looks like.”

“Technically, they’re not all students.”

“I know.” I place a hand on his cheek. “I’ve been to every bar in Hatfield before you were born.”

He grips my hand and kisses my palm. “God, when you say it like that…”

I grin. “It makes me sound old?”

“No.” His expression darkens. “It makes me think about every other dick in every scaly bar that’s been around you before me.”

“Ah, someone is the jealous type who waits up.”

He bites down on the tip of my finger.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“I trust you. It’s the other five million penises I don’t trust.”

I laugh, then shudder as he sucks my finger into his mouth and licks away the pain while holding my gaze with that brutal look in his eyes that drips of sex and dirty promises. Of shared secrets. Of going public.

Where are we heading? Is there even a future for us? I don’t ponder the question, because he pushes me down and rolls over me, his strong body pinning me to the ground.

“Tell me how you want it, princess.”

He’s giving me control, but even then, I’m in his power. Even then, he’s pulling the strings. I can’t help but ask how wide when he tells me to spread my legs. Then again, he doesn’t have to tell me anything. Instinctively, we dance in tune. We’re two of a kind. Soulmates. Born at the wrong time.

“Just like this,” I say.

He knows what I like. He knows how I need it. Gripping both my wrists in one, big hand, he unzips his pants with the other and releases his cock. He hardly takes the time to move my underwear aside before he spears into me under the protection of my dress, taking me fully with the first thrust without foreplay or warning. The intrusion stretches me, but I welcome the burn. I crave it. I bite my lip to catch a scream as he fucks me with all the wildness reflecting in his eyes.

When I walk into the office on Monday, Brian and my weekend escapades are burning between my thighs. We’ve been rough and tender. We’ve been brutal on Sunday when he had to say goodbye. I flush a little at the memory, adjusting the collar of my dress. There’s a buzz in my stomach at the thought of seeing him, but when I enter our floor, his chair is empty. He’s in, though, because his phone is lying on his desk.

The knowledge of what’s on that phone makes my insides twist. He shouldn’t let it lie around like this. I glance in Candice’s direction, but she’s facing the filing cabinets. Slipping his phone in my purse, I walk to my office.

“Where’s Brian?”

“Good morning to you, too.” Candice straightens. “In Toby’s office.”

“What’s he doing there?’

She shrugs. “Probably discussing the continuation of his internship.”

I close the door and walk around my desk. Retrieving Brian’s phone from my purse, I stare at it for a moment. I know his code. I’ve seen him use it enough times. After a second’s hesitation, I unlock the screen. I go straight to Videos. There are a few, mostly of Sam. My hand trembles. I keep on looking at the door. I scroll up and down, but the one I’m looking for isn’t there. I switch to Movies. There’s only one file, a big one. It’s titled Jane, but there’s no preview image. When I click on it, a popup screen asks for a code. Thank God. He’s encrypted it. Sighing with relief, I drop the phone on my desk and slump in my chair. We haven’t watched the film or spoken about it after that night. How many times has he watched it? What has he done while watching our dirty little movie? I’m growing wet just thinking about it.

The ringing of my own phone jerks me from my untimely, lustful thoughts. It’s Debbie.

“What are you getting Abby for her birthday?” she asks. “We want to make sure we don’t get her the same thing.”

“I’m getting her a chain with a heart pendant.” It’s one of those lockets in which you can put two photos. That’s what she’s asked for.

“Thanks. We’ll get something different.”

She’s quiet.

I feel the need to make small talk. “How’s the pregnancy going?”

“Fine. We’ll see you on Saturday.”

I’m still pondering the abrupt goodbye when Brian’s phone buzzes with an incoming message. A photo pops up on the screen. I wouldn’t have paid it any attention if it weren’t a striking girl blowing a kiss. Long, blonde hair. Blue eyes. Young. I want to say the standard cliché, but she’s even prettier than that. My eyes slip to the text. I will myself not to read it, but I can’t stop.

You owe me a date. Playing hard to get doesn’t suit you. You told my dad you were waiting to get a better job to prove yourself to me. You got the job. I won’t be patient much longer. Looking forward to seeing you at the party. Kisses. X0X0

My heart turns inside-out. I place a palm on my stomach where I feel sick.

Not for one minute have I considered that Brian may have a girlfriend. Why hasn’t it crossed my mind? It should’ve. What are the chances of a man like Brian being single? The girls must be all over him like ostriches over bling.

We never laid down rules. We never clarified what the explosive sex between us means. Exclusivity? Or just an extra on the side? Brian is banging my brains out every second weekend and during some stolen lunch hours. It doesn’t mean he’s not seeing someone–this girl–during the longer periods he’s not with me.

Speaking of the devil. The door opens, and Brian enters. Spotting his phone in my hand, he stops in his tracks.

He closes the door before he speaks. “What the hell, Jane?”

“You tell me.”

He walks to me slowly, eyeing the phone as if it’s dangerous. “Are you checking up on me?”

“Should I?”

“What are you doing with my phone?”

“You left it lying on your desk. I was worried about the film.”

“So, you checked and found it locked with a code.”

“Yes.”

“Told you, I’m not going to let it fall into the wrong hands. I’m not stupid.”

Don’t say it. Don’t be petty. Ah, darn it. I guess I am the jealous type, after all. “Is this thing between us exclusive?”

His eyes widen and then narrow. “This thing?”

“Whatever we’ve got going on.”

“You mean our relationship.”

Or affair. “Are other sex partners allowed?”

His mouth sets into a hard line. “Fuck, no. Unless you want him to die.”

“What if it’s a she?”

“You want to bang another woman?”

“Don’t be an ass.” I shove his phone at him. “Check your messages.”

He takes it with a question in his eyes and unlocks it with a frown. The frown deepens as he reads the message. When he looks back at me, his face is expressionless.

His voice is equally flat. “It’s nothing.”

“Who is she?”

“Nobody.”

“My ex-husband cheated on me.”

“I know. He’s a bastard.”

“I know what it feels like.”

“I don’t, but I can imagine. It makes me want to strangle him.”

“I’m not doing that to anyone.”

“You’re not. I thought you trusted me.”

“Don’t throw that card at me. You’re the one who said I can always talk to you.”

His shoulders lift as he inhales deeply and fixes his gaze on a spot to the side. After a few beats, he looks back at me. “She’s from a next-door neighborhood. We went to the same school. Her father was hoping we’d get together, but I’m not interested.”

“She is.”

“Doesn’t change how I feel.”

“How’s that?”

He looks me straight in the eye. “I’m in love with another woman.”