was important. She nodded. “Absolutely. All of that. So much.” Was she overselling it? Maybe, but another reassurance bubbled over. “That’s exactly what I want.”
Zach almost smiled, a flash of warmth brightening his gaze. “Okay. Good.” Then he waved the book and added without warning, “You wrote this, didn’t you?”
For a moment, Rae was speechless—but she’d promised to talk. So, she pulled herself together and said, “Yes. Yes, I did.”
On page 37, Everlee’s hero faced off a god and told it, politely but firmly, to fuck off. That was the moment Zach’s sneaking suspicions had finally solidified.
He might’ve heard echoes of Rae’s fantastic mind much earlier, only he’d been thrown off by the main characters’ clichéd personalities. Honestly, the overdone story setup could’ve been lifted from any boring, white, male fantasy of the last twenty-five years—but once shit actually started happening, he saw Rae everywhere.
Which had finally convinced him that Rae didn’t love her ex. In fact, after watching him win a coveted award for a book she’d written, she must hate the fucker. But questions still buried themselves in Zach’s chest like poisoned arrows: why was Kevin’s name on Rae’s book? Why hadn’t she told Zach the truth? And would the answers to this mystery change anything about their relationship?
Probably not, he told himself sternly. But useless hope crept into his heart, anyway.
“Come on,” he said, after fussing over a demanding Duke. “Let’s go and sit down.”
All three of them padded into the living room where Zach had spent most of his free time yesterday, devouring this book. He wasn’t the fastest reader—as much as he enjoyed it—but he was almost finished now. He supposed he could’ve stopped reading after the first fifty pages, but he hadn’t wanted to. The ghost of Rae’s voice trapped within the ink made him feel closer to her, soothing the hollow emptiness left behind by her absence.
And now she was here, completely ruining all his attempts at stoicism. When she curled up on the sofa with Duke, Zach chose the armchair, as far away as possible. His hands were hungry for her, but he didn’t trust them. He and Rae had spent one endless weekend touching each other without truth, communicating with something other than words—and look at the mess it had gotten them into. This time, she would talk, and he would listen.
She was beautiful today, from her scraped-back ponytail to the push of her tongue against her scarred cheek. As always, she hadn’t dressed properly for the harsh spring weather, but he squashed the urge to take her reddened hands. If she was cold, she could warm herself up. That wasn’t his job anymore.
She bit her lip, then said quietly, “I’ve decided it’s best to explain everything at once.”
Usually, Zach was the one explaining for other people, fixing rifts he hadn’t caused and excusing shitty behaviour. But he didn’t do that anymore, and apparently, with Rae, he didn’t need to. Suddenly, she was all too happy to chat.
Well, happy might be overstating the matter. In fact, she looked vaguely sick—but she was talking, all the same. And an irrepressible part of his mind whispered, She’s doing this for me.
“I’m not supposed to tell anyone this,” she said, “but I should’ve told you. I’m going to tell you. Even though it makes me sound weak.”
Without a second thought, he told her, “You could never be weak.”
The look she gave him seemed to say, And yet, I have been. Then she began.
“In the last years of our marriage,” she said, “Kevin was always angry. It reminded me of home. It made me nervous. The more he pushed me away, the more I wanted to please him.” She gave a wry, one-sided smile and stroked Duke absently. “But, surprise, surprise, I never could.”
Zach clamped his jaw tight, swallowing his response. No matter the circumstances, he couldn’t help but rage for her. The people she loved just kept hurting her, and it made him want to rip heads from bodies.
“I thought maybe the problem was work,” she went on. “He was behind on a deadline, and he wouldn’t let me help. Usually, we’d talk through ideas, and I’d smooth out choppy scenes for him, but not this time.”
“Wait,” Zach scowled. “So, he made you do his work for him?”
Rae chuckled. “No, he didn’t make me. I’d always wanted to be a writer, but agents and editors said I had no potential audience. I guess Kevin caught the writing bug from me, but he was actually