before. “I’m sorry, I thought Adam said you were living here now. I got the impression from him that the two of you—”
“I haven’t made any concrete plans yet. It’s all up in the air,” I interrupted before she could say exactly what I knew she was going to say.
Mrs. Hamilton’s eyes were warm. “He’d be very sad to see you go, not like when that ex-wife of his left.” Her expression made it clear what her thoughts about Chelsea were. No wonder I liked her.
Before I could respond, the doctor came in, and I excused myself with a promise to return that evening.
My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text from Adam.
Meet for breakfast?
I quickly tapped out my reply.
Be there in ten.
When I arrived at the coffee shop that Adam practically lived in, I found him in a booth towards the back, frowning at his phone. Frowning was an understatement. He looked ready to murder someone.
I approached the table and slid into the booth opposite him. He looked up, and his demeanor changed in an instant. He tucked away his phone and took my hands, leaning over the table to kiss me. And I didn’t stop him. Even though everyone could see us.
It both thrilled and terrified me.
“You didn’t tell me Mrs. Hamilton was awake,” I said, settling back down in my seat and taking a long drink of the coffee Adam had already ordered for me.
“I ordered us both the bacon and egg bagel if that’s okay. And sorry, I figured you’d find out for yourself when you went there. I had an early morning conference call with Chelsea’s attorney,” he said with a grimace.
There was a lot to unload in that quickfire statement. So I started with the easiest part. “I can order my own food, Adam. I’m not five.” Adam had definite alpha tendencies. Sometimes it didn’t bother me, like when he was pulling my hair and ordering me to hold onto the headboard, but there were other times it grated. My ingrained feminism didn’t want him thinking he could take care of me.
Even if the girly part of me loved every second of it.
Adam rolled his eyes. “Sorry. I’ll let you starve next time.” He didn’t take my comment seriously. Probably because I was purposefully picking a fight.
Why was I doing that?
Because you’re scared, dumbass.
His feet tangled with mine underneath the table as we sat together like an old married couple sipping coffee and shooting the shit.
Run. Run. Run. He’ll hurt you again if you’re not careful. Watch out.
Then I latched onto the second part of his statement. “You had a conference call with Chelsea’s attorney? About what?”
Adam didn’t talk much about his divorce proceedings with Chelsea, mostly because I hadn’t really asked about them. I was attempting to forget she was still part of the equation. Even if she was always there, between us, ready to expose my insecurities all over again.
Adam gave me a searching look before answering. “It seems she’s playing the abandonment card and is fighting this divorce tooth and nail.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. “So that means what?”
Adam cleared his throat—a dead giveaway that he was uncomfortable. Because this situation was anything but comfortable. Talking about your wife with your current—What? Fuck buddy?
Girlfriend?
Significant other?
“She doesn’t want a divorce. She wants us to go to counseling. She insists we do this before signing papers.” Adam stirred his coffee, though there was barely anything left.
“Counseling,” I repeated dully.
“Yeah. And if I don’t want to lose my ass in this divorce, I may have to do it. The thing is I know she doesn’t want me. She just doesn’t want me to be happy,” he explained in disgust.
“So you have to play along,” I surmised, feeling my heart in my throat. It felt like another thing against us. Another reason that this would never work out.
Adam got up in one swift movement and came around to my side of the table, sliding into the booth, putting his arm around me. He cupped my face with his hand, his eyes boring into mine. “It’s just more Chelsea games. I won’t let her do this. I won’t let her drag this sham of marriage out any longer. You are my future. You are my life, Meg.”
His future.His life.
The waitress brought over our breakfast sandwiches, but I had no appetite. This all felt too much, too fast because I loved Adam, and I wanted to trust him. And I wanted to be with him. But