A weak smile of relief crossed her lips. Troy cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. It was a gentle, soft kiss, but one filled with the depths of emotion they were both feeling. Without realizing it, they began to dance to the music. Their feet took small steps back and forth on the carpeting below, their hips swaying ever so slightly to the song. As confused as Elle was in Troy’s arms, she was eager to know what fate had in store for them.
While they danced, Troy’s phone rang. Instinctively, Elle pulled away, allowing him to answer it. Instead, Troy pulled her closer. “Let the machine get it.”
Elle eased herself back into Troy’s embrace, until a familiar voice came through.
“Hey, Troy, it’s Amanda. Listen, I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday afternoon, so I need to bring Payton a little early. Let me know if I should bring her to the restaurant or to your place.”
Elle’s jaw dropped and her hands stiffened around Troy’s forearms. She couldn’t believe her ears. Her mind was racing. No, Payton’s mother couldn’t possibly be . . .
“Amanda?” Her name was like venom on her lips.
“Rigby, I—”
“Amanda Bauer? From college? Are you kidding me right now?”
Troy pursed his lips and nodded. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, it’s just—”
“You knew I’d be pissed.”
“Yeah.” Troy rubbed his neck and shrugged.
Elle paced the length of Troy’s living room. Her muscles tightened and her hands balled into tight fists. “So, after Vegas, you went back to her? Again?”
“I told you, it was a rebound. It meant nothing.”
Elle returned to the couch, pressing her forehead into her hands. Sweat grew on her forehead, her arms, her neck, and the room began to spin. “I can’t believe this.”
“It’s not a big deal, seriously.” Troy’s tone changed to defensive, which stirred Elle’s anger even more.
“Not a big deal? Are you kidding me? Every time I screwed up, you went back to her, Troy. You did it to hurt me, didn’t you? Just like in college!”
Troy threw his arms up in the air, glaring at Elle. “So?”
“So, while I was writing you love letters and begging you to take me back, she was with you, sleeping with you, easing your pain?”
Troy stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips. His jaw was clenched as he broke eye contact.
“The feet behind the door—how do I know they weren’t hers?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I came to your door so many times . . . and every single time, someone would look through the peephole and walk away. Did Amanda see me through the peephole?”
“I don’t remember, Rigby, it was a long time ago.” The guilt on Troy’s face betrayed him. Even if those feet never belonged to Amanda, the possibility was clear. While her heart was consumed with guilt, Troy was sleeping with Amanda. The thought made bile rise in Elle’s throat.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” She jumped to her feet and ran to Troy’s bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She held her hair with one hand and lifted the toilet seat with the other, hovering over the commode until her nausea settled and her nerves calmed.
Knock, knock, knock.
A chill ran down Elle’s spine as the entire scenario took her right back to Las Vegas. Her, emotional and sick in the bathroom, with Troy knocking on the other side. Only this time, she wasn’t worried about Troy’s state of mind. It was time for self-preservation.
“Rigby, please . . . I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’m sorry you found out this way, but I’m never going to regret my daughter. She’s my world—my entire world.”
Elle’s heart sank. She didn’t want Troy to regret becoming a father, but the pain he caused her by rebounding with the one person he knew would upset her was like a nail through her already wounded heart. She climbed to her feet, splashed cold water on her face, and opened the bathroom door.
Troy leaned against the door frame, his brow furrowed in frustration.
“You’re linked to her forever, Troy. No matter what happens with us, Amanda will always be in your life. When Payton graduates high school and college, when she gets married, has kids—you’ll always be linked to her. Forever and always.”
Troy sighed, leaning closer to Elle, his feet crossing the threshold of the bathroom. “Yes, that’s true. But we’re friends, Rigby, nothing more. I need you to believe me.”
Elle wanted to brush it off, to believe that, outside