“But you don’t have to, okay? I promise you have nothing to feel sorry for. If you change your mind and you want to go—”

“I’m not.”

Since when did we have three stubborn asses living at the house?

“But if you do—”

“I’m not. PawPaw can wait a week. He’ll probably outlive me,” Zac argued.

“If you want to stay, stay, but if you don’t want to, it’s all right. Okay?” I insisted too, trying my best to give him a reassuring smile.

He simply shook his head.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the doorbell rang and we shot each other a frown. “Did you order pizza?”

“No.”

I’d ordered a couple of my books that had gone to print a few days ago, but chose the free shipping option, so there was no way it was them. I shrugged at him and got up, walking slowly toward the door, trying to get myself to relax. When I glanced through the peephole, I took a step back and stared at the door blankly.

“Who is it?” Zac called out.

“Trevor.”

“What did you just say?”

“It’s Trevor,” I answered coolly, knowing he was already screwed by yelling. “Have you been ignoring his calls?”

“Maybe.”

That was a yes.

“I just won’t open the door then,” I said before there was a loud knock on the door.

“I can hear you!” Trevor bellowed.

I didn’t feel like dealing with this, now or a decade from now. “What do you want me to do?” I ignored the man on the other side of the door, all of a sudden not caring if he’d heard us or not.

Zac cursed from the kitchen and a moment later, his crutches hit the tile as he hobbled his way toward the front door. With a resigned sigh, he said, “I can get the door.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, even if inside I was kissing his feet for not making me have to put up with Trevor.

“Yeah.”

I took a step away. “Do you want me to stay down here?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I’ll take him into the living room so you can eat something.”

Nodding, I walked pretty damn quickly into the kitchen and busied myself pulling things out of the fridge to eat, despite still not being hungry, as Zac opened the door. I really tried to ignore them, but it was hard. Bits and pieces of conversation floated from the living room to the kitchen way too easily.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“What’s going on with you?”

“What am I supposed to do with you when there’s shit floating around the Internet about you falling outside of a club and breaking your foot?”

“You think anyone’s going to want to take you now?”

Now that comment had me taking a step away from the stove and toward the hallway that led into the living room, ready to tell Trevor he needed to shut the hell up. But Zac didn’t need me defending him. He’d been avoiding Trevor for a long time anyway, and even if he knew what he wanted to do, and I knew, he needed someone else in his corner.

I just didn’t necessarily want it to be Trevor the douche, but it was his career, not mine.

Almost an hour later, the sound of someone clearing their throat had me looking up from where I was sitting at the breakfast table with my feet propped up on one chair, a movie playing on my propped up phone, and a plate I’d just finished scraping the last bit of rice off of.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go with Aiden to Colorado,” the manager commented from his spot leaning against the framing between the hallway and the kitchen.

I raised my tired gaze to his and shook my head. “I couldn’t. I have something I have to do here in a couple of days,” I explained, purposely leaving out what happened to Diana and my run. He didn’t need to know, and what would he do anyway? Give me some half-assed apology I didn’t believe? “There’s no point in my flying back and forth,” my dry, monotone voice added on. Plus, it wasn’t like Aiden had invited me. He’d barely wanted to talk about it each time I’d brought it up.

The snicker that came out of him made me straightening my back. “He could afford it.”

And there it was. I blinked at him. “I make my own money, and I’m not going to waste mine or his.”

“You sure about that?” He had the nerve to raise an eyebrow.

Could he not tell this was the last thing I wanted to do? “Yes, I’m sure. You want to check my bank account?” I’d already had to send in copies of my bank account information to the government to prove I could support Aiden and me—in a much less lavish lifestyle, but I could if push came to shove, at least the government thought so.

Trevor made a small noise in the back of his throat that had me leveling my gaze at him.

I didn’t want to talk to him; now he was just downright pissing me off. “Is that what this is about? Do you think I’m here to blow all of Aiden’s money? Did you think I was trying to win him over or something?” I asked slowly, carefully trying to finally understand what it might be about my personality that had made him so hostile from the moment I’d started working for him.

From the way he pulled at his ear, in that nervous tick I’d picked up on years ago when he was frustrated, I’d hit the nail perfectly on the head.

“Really? You interviewed and hired me. I didn’t even know who he was until you told me.” Yeah, I was getting just as defensive as I thought I sounded. “You could have fired me if you had that much of a problem with it.”

“Fired you?” His hand went to the back of his trimmed, salt-and-pepper head. “I tried firing you at least four times.”

What?

Trevor’s lip snarled. “You didn’t know?”

“When?” I coughed out.

“Does it matter?”

It shouldn’t but... “It does to me.”

The angry, bitter man simply gazed at me like I was dumb. “He wouldn’t let me.”

You know nothing, Vanessa Mazur.

I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand at all.

“The last time I suggested we find him someone else, he said the first person that would go between the two of us would be me. Me.”

Some things just sort of clicked together. Why Trevor had always been such an asshole to me—prima ballerinas didn’t like dancing in anyone else’s limelight. Why he had fought so much to try to keep me from quitting—to save his own hide. Why he’d been so on edge since we got married and didn’t tell him—because it seemed like we were ganging up on him, which was a partial truth.

But the news made me reel.

It felt like the rug had been pulled out from under my feet.

He’d liked me. Aiden had fucking liked me. He hadn’t been joking so many months ago.

The way Trevor cleared his throat was rough, catching, like he was trying to compose himself after losing his shit. “Anyway, tell Aiden I’ll be calling him soon. You two might be packing your bags and moving to colder pastures,” he noted. “See you.”

I didn’t say another word to him. What the hell else was there to say?

With shaking hands, I picked up my phone and typed out a message to the big guy.

Me: I didn’t know Trevor wanted to fire me.

An hour later, I got my response.

Aiden: Did he go by the house?

He wasn’t even trying to bullshit me.

Me: Yeah.

Aiden: Yes, he wanted to get rid of you. I didn’t let him.

Was he on crack?

Me: You didn’t say anything when I left. I just thought… you didn’t care.

Aiden: I wasn’t going to force you to stay if you wanted to go.

Me: But you could have said something. I would have stayed longer if you’d just asked.

I’d barely typed that out when I realized how stupid of an argument that was. If he’d asked. Aiden was like me, he wouldn’t have asked. Ever.

Aiden: I got you for longer, didn’t I?