“Because he’s been seeing Anika,” I snap. “And I want to know why. What the fuck were they talking about?”
Dale exhales slowly. “Does it matter?”
I turn to him sharply. “Yes, it fucking matters. You’re not bothered he’s been near her after everything he did?”
He gives a short, humourless laugh. “You say that like we’ve never treated women badly.”
“That’s different,” I bite out. “He’s after her money.”
“We’ve already handled that,” Dale says, his voice calm and measured. “He’s not getting much, and whatever he does get, goes towards Sebastian. So, it’s not the end of the world.”
“He’s not keeping the kid,” I say firmly.
Dale drags a hand over his face, already tired of the argument. “Jesus, Ray, he’s the kid’s dad. You really want Sebastian growing up without parents like we did?”
“Anika didn’t want Luke to have custody.”
“She’s not here anymore,” he says quietly. The words land like a punch. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the bar. “Look, I get it. I do. But we don’t have any legal standing here. And if we push too hard, Luke takes Sebastian and we never see him again.”
I clench my jaw, but I don’t argue. He’s right.
“Richard’s meeting with Luke’s lawyer today,” Dale continues. “Once Luke realises there’s no big payout waiting for him, he’ll come sniffing around here. And when he does, we need to be smarter than him.”
I nod slowly, my anger settling into something colder. Something more controlled.
Dale takes another sip, then glances at me sideways. “And for the record,” he adds casually, “Wynter was a good one.” I don’t respond. “Yeah,” he continues, like he’s talking about the weather, “you fucked that up.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WYNTER
Holly shows me around her place, chatting away as she goes. It’s nice and I can tell she’s spent a lot of money making it feel that way. Everything is perfectly placed, like something out of a magazine, and she beams with pride as she opens the door to the spare room.
“And this,” she says, sweeping her hand inside, “is all yours.”
I step in and pause. The room is soft and feminine, all pale colours and fluffy cushions. It looks like somewhere a princess would sleep, reminding me of my own room back home.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask for what has to be the tenth time.
Holly rolls her eyes but smiles. “Honestly, I’m glad of the company. It gets lonely around here. Joel comes over a lot, but it’s not the same as having girly company.”
I nod, setting my bag on the bed, still feeling like I don’t quite belong.
“I’ll make some tea,” she says. “You get settled and come find me when you’re done.”
When she leaves, the quiet settles around me. I sit on the edge of the bed and switch my phone on. A message from Catherine lights up the screen.
Catherine: He doesn’t mean it. He’s hurting.
I type out a quick reply.
Me: I’m okay. It’s for the best.
The lie sits heavy in my chest, but I send it anyway.
Holly is flicking through a magazine when I rejoin her after unpacking, her legs are tucked up on the sofa like she hasn’t a care in the world. I’m almost jealous for a second.
“I was thinking,” she says, glancing up, “we should get drunk.”