Page 24 of Battle of the Exes

When I pull into the driveway, the proverbial fog lifts. This is the house. The one we were planning to buy together once we had saved enough money. The house on Summit Ridge Road.

We used to talk about how we’d fix it up room by room, host noisy dinners with family, and fillit with laughter.

I can’t believe Beau lives here. I sit in the car for a moment, regrouping and trying to forget.

Chapter Twenty

Beau

Ivy is sitting in her car, no phone in hand, just staring at the house. She remembers.

Though we parted ways many years ago, I've kept track of her life from afar. I know she lives in New York, writing the popular syndicated columnDear Ivy, giving relationship advice. Despite how we ended things, her witty responses are insightful. I can’t help feeling proud of her success.

Ivy cuts the engine and steps out of the car. Her hair catches the breeze, fanning out like wings. My heart gives an involuntary leap. Ivy still has that effect on me. She’s as beautiful as the day we met on the slopes. I’ve often wondered what our lives might have been like if Carmen hadn’t shown up that day.

I move away from the window and rearrange myfeatures, hopefully hiding my interest in her every move. I wait for the doorbell to ring and take my time opening the door. “Hello, Ivy.”

She grunts a greeting in return. Great start.

Rusty trundles out from the back room, sniffing Ivy’s shoes. “Who’s this?”

“Ivy, meet Rusty. Rusty, this is Ivy.”

“He’s beautiful.”

Not everyone would see past Rusty’s rusty exterior.

My pup snuggles up to her feet, and she laughs. It’s a sound I haven’t heard from her since we crossed paths again.

“How was the tour you gave Jasper?” I ask as she steps inside. Her eyes dart around the room. “Did he talk your ear off about how prolific he is?”

“Actually, it was really nice.” She moves from my bookshelf to the paintings on the wall, missing the photo hiding there. Still, it feels like an inspection. “I showed him the playhouse, the library, the rock garden, and Blue River. But I’m not here to talk about my dating life.”

Dating?

I swallow hard. Even if Ivy’s taste in men changed drastically over the years, she’d need a lobotomy to have changed that much. Jasper and I couldn’t be more different.

“Did you have a lobotomy?”

“What?”

“Jasper is the most self-absorbed, obnoxious?—”

She holds up a hand. “Resorting to gossip now, are we?” Neither one of us has taken a seat, as if the one to sit first will lose the upper hand. “Might I remind youthat he is your client. And besides, he has the best head of hair I’ve ever seen on a man. The kind, someone might run their fingers through, if so inclined.”

I know she’s messing with me, but I can’t help myself. “It’s a wig,” I say, only slightly ashamed.

Ivy tilts her head, squinting. “Huh?”

“Jasper’s flowing locks. It’s a wig.”

Ivy scrunches up her nose. “No way.”

“Trust me.”

She gives me a look that makes it clear that will never happen. “How do you know?”

“We were on tour in Chicago on a particularly windy day.”

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