Page 85 of His Orders

“Someone want to tell me why I just overheard my wife comforting my sister about my best friend?”

Blair winces. I freeze.

Drew crosses his arms, eyes fixed on me. “You and Ethan. Since when?”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” I say quickly. “It just… did.”

He raises a brow. “You’ve been living with him.”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what it was at first. And then everything with the trial happened, and Daniel, and?—”

“And now Ethan’s having coffee with Claire,” Blair cuts in gently.

Drew’s expression hardens. “Claire? Seriously?”

I press my hands together, palms tight. “I didn’t come here to be judged.”

Drew lets out a breath, sits down beside me. “Then what did you come here for?”

My voice breaks. “I think I may lose the only man who ever truly saw me. The only one who loved me completely. And I cannot bear the thought of hearing one more person tell me what I’ve done wrong this year. I already know. Every misstep. Every silence. Every truth I waited too long to say. I’ve carried them. I still do.”

Blair reaches over and squeezes my hand. Drew says nothing for a long moment, then shifts closer. His hand finds the back of my neck, warm and firm, and he pulls me into a hug.

“If Ethan is with you,” he says quietly, “he’s not going to have eyes for anyone else. You know that, right?”

“I thought I did.”

“You still should.”

Blair leans in. “You’re not alone in this. We’ve got your back. Always.”

Drew stands and grabs his keys from the patio table. “Let’s go. Ice cream croissants. My treat.”

I blink up at him. “It’s ten thirty in the morning.”

“And?” He grins. “We’re celebrating the end of the worst chapter of your life. And the beginning of the good part.”

So we go. Blair rides up front, Drew drives, and I sit in the back watching the city roll past, letting their chatter fill the air. The bakery is a small, golden-windowed spot tucked between two florists, and they serve sandwiches with powdered sugar and achoice of fillings. I choose vanilla bean and raspberry. Blair goes for chocolate hazelnut. Drew just orders one of everything.

We eat at a bench outside, and for the first time in what feels like years, I laugh until my ribs ache. There’s jam on my fingers and powdered sugar on my sweater and nothing has been fixed yet, not really, but I feel like maybe I’m strong enough now to try.

When I get home, the apartment is quiet. My coat slides off my shoulders and onto the hook. My bag lands gently on the chair. I walk to the living room, sit down slowly, and pick up my phone.

I stare at Ethan’s contact name. Then I press call.

It rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Voicemail.

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