Cassie isn’t just my boss; she’s become one of my closest friends in Billings. We have wine nights and talk about dating disasters. She confides in me about her struggles with her estranged family. She trusts me, and here I am, about to lie to her.
After a moment’s hesitation, I type:
I’m fine. Just need to deal with something urgent. Will explain when I can.
Another quick reply:
Take all the time you need. Jobs will be here when you get back. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.
I flop back onto the bed and groan, staring up at the ceiling. The cats are exploring the room, Mochi already claiming the windowsill and Charlie investigating under the bed. At least they’re adaptable. I wish I could say the same for myself.
And then there’s Todd. Poor, confused Todd, who walked into my house at exactly the wrong moment and got dragged into this nightmare. Todd, who’s probably wondering what the hell he got himself into by dating me.
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes until I see stars. Moping isn’t going to solve anything. I need to talk to Todd, explain as much as I can without terrifying him further. I need to figure out how long we’re going to be stuck here. I need to come up with a better lie for Cassie.
Sitting up, I run a hand through my hair and decide there’s no use hiding in this room. I’ve been kidnapped, divorced, and rebuilt my life from scratch. I can handle an awkward few days with my ex-husband and current boyfriend under the same roof.
When I step into the hallway, I notice people moving toward what must be the dining hall. The smell of food wafts through the air, reminding me that it’s been a few hours since I’ve eaten.
“Miss Kayla?” A young man in a prospect cut approaches, looking nervous. “Roman sent me to find you. It‘s dinnertime. He’s finishing something up with Dragon and then he’ll join you.”
I nod and follow him down the hall. Even though I ate both breakfast and lunch here today, this will be my first time eating in the dining hall. For the other two meals, Maddie brought plates of food to my bedroom, explaining that it might be overwhelming for me to eat with everyone else. Entering the hall now, I can see what she means. It’s massive, with six long tables laid out in a row. Maddie and a few other girls are dishing up plates of food and passing them to diners through a cafeteria style window at the front of the room. Not seeing any sign of Roman or Dragon or even Todd, for that matter, I join the line to get a plate.
“I made you black bean tacos,” Maddie says when she spots me, handing me a plate already prepared with tacos and rice. “I remember you said you’re vegetarian.”
“Thank you,” I say, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness. In the chaos of everything else, it’s nice to have one less thing to worry about.
I find an empty seat and slide into it, my stomach growling as the aroma of spiced beans and rice hits me. I’m just about to take my first bite when Roman appears beside me.
“Mind if I sit?” he asks, nodding to the empty chair next to me.
“It’s your clubhouse,” I reply with a shrug, though my heart gives a traitorous little jump at his proximity.
Roman settles in beside me, the warmth of his body radiating against my side. I’m acutely aware of every inch of him: the breadth of his shoulders, the tattoos peeking out from under his t-shirt sleeve, the familiar scent of him that still makes me feel lightheaded.
I’m so distracted by Roman’s presence that I don’t notice Todd approaching until he’s sliding into the seat across from me. I force myself to focus on my food, taking a bite of the taco to avoid having to make conversation. The tension between the three of us is almost suffocating.
As I’m chewing, I glance over at Roman’s plate and nearly choke. He’s eating the same black bean tacos that I am. I stare at his plate, then at him, until he notices my gaze.
“What’s up?” he asks, wiping a bit of salsa from the corner of his mouth.
I give my head a little shake, not quite believing what I’m seeing. “I just never thought I’d see the day when you’d willingly eat beans.”
Roman shrugs, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Things change.”
“Our boy here only eats rabbit food now,” one of the brothers calls from further down the table, having overheard us. “Been that way since he joined us.”
The blush on Roman’s neck deepens, spreading to his cheeks. I’ve never seen him blush like this before. Roman Sullivan, embarrassed? It’s like seeing a lion trip over its own paws.
“Since when?” I ask, genuinely curious now.
Roman takes another bite, chewing slowly as if buying time. When he finally swallows, he keeps his eyes on his plate. “Since I moved to Billings.”
“But why?” I press. “You used to give me so much grief about my ‘hippie rabbit food.’”
He hesitates, and for a moment I think he won’t answer. Then he looks up, meeting my eyes directly. “It’s important to you,” he says simply. “So it’s important to me.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Two years of separation, of building a life without him, of convincing myself that the man I thought I married never really existed, and now he’s sitting here telling me he became vegetarian because of me?