Page 33 of For the Plot
Reece finally looks at me, something unreadable in his gaze. “You didn’t know?”
I shake my head. “No. We haven’t spoken since…” My voice trails off. Since he shattered me. But I don’t say that out loud. “Since college.”
“I figured you might’ve stayed in touch,” he says.
I snort. “Not exactly. We weren’t the friendliest exes.” I take a sip of my tea. “You know how it goes—we broke up, I cried. Then he transferred schools.” I don’t go into the dirty details. Who wants to bring up a cheating ex to the guy’s dad?
“I’m sorry.” He stiffens. Like he didn’t know we ended on bad terms. Or maybe he did and he just didn’t want to hear it from me.
“It was college,” I say lightly. “People are dumb in college.”
Reece doesn’t answer. He just watches me like he’s reading footnotes I can’t see.
“We were both young and didn’t handle it well,” I add, “and I didn’t know how to make it hurt less.” I offer him a small smile. “I’m sure that’s ancient history for him too.”
His expression darkens. “It’s not ancient. And it’s not excused. Whatever he did to hurt you.”
I blink. “You’re mad at him?”
“I’m disappointed,” he says after a long pause. “But I’ve learned disappointment’s quieter than anger. Harder to forgive.”
The air between us thickens. For a second I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I didn’t mean to make this awkward.”
“You didn’t,” he says. “I did.”
He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, and for the first time, he looks tired. Not in the way people get when they’re overworked, but the kind that creeps in after years of holding in too much and letting too little out. I saw that look on my mom’s face a lot growing up, especially after my dad bailed on us after my sixth birthday.
I soften. “Can I ask you something?”
He doesn’t look up. “You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
I smile around the rim of my drink. “Fair.”
I toy with my chopsticks for a second, then go for it. “Why didn’t you tell Archer I’m working here?”
That gets his attention. He glances up, expression unreadable. “Didn’t seem necessary.”
“That’s… surprising.”
He doesn’t elaborate. Doesn’t blink.
I lean in slightly. “You two don’t talk much?”
His jaw ticks, just once. “We talk. Just not about everything.”
Okay. Wall firmly in place. I nod, like that answer makes total sense. It doesn’t.
“Got it. Off-limits topic.” I smile, trying to tease him out of the awkward. “That’s fine. We can go back to pretending my dating history with your son isn’t a weird footnote in our employee onboarding process.”
He huffs a breath through his nose. Not quite a laugh, but I’ll take it.
“Don’t worry,” I add, grinning. “I’m not planning on giving him a heads-up either. Let’s see how long it takes for him to notice.”
His gaze flicks back to mine. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”
“Hey, I take my thrills where I can get them. My current love life is nonexistent and I’ve officially become someone who gets excited about fresh office pens.”
That earns me a small, reluctant smile. Progress.
