. Ryan had ordered the place cleared out. He was remodeling it
d built. They were about to rip out the small lemon tree in th
to the foreman.
owards the street, where Ryan was leaning aga
to him. "Rya
s an open-concept bar there." He ended his call and looked at me, hi
ar didn't go to a motel. It drove for twenty minutes, pulling up to a secluded, high-end
oached, a slow, crue
ice like honey laced with poison. "Look at you.
h," I said, my voice steady, "what does that make the man who spent five years with me? Ma
hed. Her face t
did yo
t beside us. Stella must have called him.
g here, Gabby? Are
an!" Stella cried, her
ed with just last night, and his hand flew up. The slap was sharp, the sound ec
o my wrist, to the worn leather bracelet he'd made for me years ago. It was a memento from a time
ff and threw
one," I
lf-pitying anger. "After everything I
he absurdity of his wor
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