Page 65 of By Your Side
And Danielle just happened to show up this morning, all smiles and false concern, fishing for information and reminding me how much she thought this bar should belong to Eli.
Coincidence? Maybe. But I’d been around long enough to know that some smiles hid teeth.
I moved through the space, searching for anything out of place. Things where they shouldn’t be. Forgotten receipts. Anything that held a clue. The bar felt suddenly unfamiliar, like I was walking through a stranger’s dream.
Once inside my office, I reached for the ledger on my desk, flipping through recent orders and deliveries, tracing every signature and note and matching them up with the records I kept on my laptop. Nothing jumped out, but suspicion clung to each page. I should talk to Eli about this, but the thought made my jaw clench.
Was I being paranoid? Could this just be a simple mistake?
Forget Eli. I called Ren, who told me to send him copies of my records and keep him updated on anything out of the ordinary.
I needed to get out of here. I should go home and take a nap. I was exhausted. Maybe sleep would bring clarity.
I left my office, the ledger still open on my desk, and stepped into the dimly lit doorway that separated the cramped back from the main part of the bar. The world narrowed to the threshold, and then I saw Eli standing in the glow between shadow and light.
He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The way he stood, half turned as if caught mid-thought, made something inside me go taut. I felt the press of old history in his silence—a memory of when this place belonged to both of us, before the lines blurred and broke. I didn’t hear him come in; the bar had been locked. My gaze dropped to his hand, where a battered key glinted between his fingers.
“You still have a key?” My voice was sharp enough to cut glass.
He glanced at it like he’d forgotten it was there. “Of course. I helped build this place.”
“That was years ago. It’s mine now. Give it to me.”
“What?” His eyebrows shot up.
“You heard me.” I walked through the room, holding out my hand. “Key. Now.”
His jaw flexed, but he dropped it into my palm. The weight of it was heavier than it should have been.
“Since when do I need permission to come in?” he asked. “We were married. We have kids together. This place was mine.”
“Since you stopped being my husband,” I said flatly. “And since you showed up uninvited in a locked building that doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s mine now, Eli, and you are no longer welcome here. Maybe I should call the police.” I watched him carefully. Weird things were happening here, and sadly, I wouldn’t be shocked if he were part of it.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I came to apologize. For everything that’s been going on lately. And to offer to take the girls this weekend. Give you a break.”
“Generous,” I said, my voice dripping with acid. “As if you didn’t get Lark’s text this morning. You are driving them away. They don’t want to see you right now.”
“I have things to make up for, okay? Can you talk to them for me?”
“No. They’re teenagers, old enough to have minds of their own. It’s not up to me. It’s up to them, and I’ll back up anything they want. If they want to see you, I won’t ever stand in their way or discourage them. I promise.”
“We have to talk this through. We can’t live this way.”
“None of this has anything to do with me. Can’t you see that? You caused all of it. We’re divorced. You’re not my problem anymore.”
He swallowed, his gaze dropping to the scarred wood floor. For a moment, the silence pressed between us, thick as a fog neither of us wanted to walk through. I could see the words lining up behind his lips, the urge to argue, to justify, all of it simmering just below the surface. But he held it in, jaw working.
“What do you want from me, Paige?” he finally said, voice quieter now. “I know I’ve screwed up. I know I can’t change what happened. But I’m here, aren’t I? I’m trying.”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. My hand closed tighter around the key, as if its weight might anchor me. “Showing up doesn’t fix what you broke,” I managed, voice rough. “You can’t just waltz in and rewrite the past.”
His eyes flickered with something—hurt, maybe, or just fatigue. “I’m not trying to rewrite anything. I just want a chance to do right by them. And by you, if I can.”
“It’s too late for us, I don’t care anymore, and you no longer have the power to hurt me. And as for Noah and the girls? That’s not up to me,” I said. “You burned all the bridges, Eli. If you want to cross, you’ll have to learn how to swim.”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. “It’s not that simple.”
“It is,” I said, and the finality in my voice surprised even me. “Danielle was here. Right before you showed up, she didn’t know where you were. Sound familiar?”
