“Thank you,” I say as he pulls a carton of half and half from the fridge. I doctor my coffee and watch him take a big sip of his. “Abi is really sweet.”
His expression softens. “She’s pretty great, and all things considered, I think she’s taking the move well. We were both ready for a change.”
I glance toward the stairs. “I know you’re still settling in, but why isn’t she in school?”
“When the news broke about her . . . biological father . . .” He takes a breath, as if the words hurt, but then he shakes it away. “The kids at school were brutal, and we ended up pulling her and homeschooling. She’ll continue homeschooling through the end of this academic year, but in the meantime, I’m visiting Jackson Harbor schools to figure out my options. I’m happy homeschooling is an option, but I don’t think it’s the best long-term choice for Abi.”
“You’ll find something.” I give him what I hope is an encouraging smile. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll send her to the same public schools we went to.”
He smiles at this and stares into his coffee. I wonder if he’s remembering those days. Before college. Before the NFL. When everything was simpler in his life and mine. “I owe you a huge apology, Shay,” he says, lifting his eyes to meet mine.
I put my coffee down. Right, the whole reason I came over. “I’m pretty sure you have that backward.”
“I had no right to interfere in your relationship with George. I know it doesn’t excuse anything, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you being with someone who doesn’t treat you right. For what it’s worth, I believed I was doing the right thing.”
“I shouldn’t have lost my temper that day outside the library. You had every right to be concerned.”
“I deserved everything you said to me. I never meant to make you feel like I don’t think you’re capable of making decisions for yourself.” He draws in a deep breath and hesitates for so long I get the impression that the next part is hard for him. “I have to accept that there’s nothing about you being with someone else that will ever sit right with me, but that doesn’t mean I have the right to judge your relationship. You know yourself. You know what’s right for you.”
I don’t know why I told him George and I were seeing other people. I didn’t want him knowing the truth, but I could’ve just said we’d broken up. I think, at least in part, I was trying to keep some distance between us, but I’m pretty sure that ship sailed the minute I unbuttoned his pants in Jake’s office. “George and I aren’t together.”
He straightens. “You’re not? Since when?”
“Since before you and I . . .” I make a circular motion with my hand. “And you were right. About George. Sort of, at least.”
“What does that mean?”
I blow out a breath. “He wasn’t cheating on me with someone else. He was cheating on someone else with me.” My eyes burn, and anger pulses through me at the reminder. That lying sonofabitch. “He’s married.”
Easton blinks. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.” My eyes prick with tears. I’m not heartbroken, but my pride is so battered it has a limp. “After we broke up, I decided I wanted to find out who Buttercup was, and . . .” I shrug helplessly. “I guess I know now.”
“What a fucking asshole. Jesus, Shay, I’m so sorry.” His eyes are full of anger, but he shakes his head like he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. “If it helps, I take no joy in being right about this.”
The sincerity in his voice makes the tears spill over. “I feel like a fool.”
He puts down his coffee, cups my face in both of his hands, and wipes away my tears. “It kills me to see you cry. To know he had your heart to break. He didn’t deserve you.”
“I wasn’t in love with him. I’m embarrassed and my life is a little confusing right now, but my heart isn’t broken.” Not like it was when you walked away from me. “You know what hurts the most?”
He shakes his head. “What?”
“He made me the other woman. I never got the choice, but that’s what I was, and now I need to tell his wife the truth. She deserves to know.”
Something flashes across his face. Pain. Regret. I know he’s thinking of the night of Dad’s funeral. I haven’t stopped thinking about that night since I followed George home. I felt like Easton cracked my entire foundation with what he said that night.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he says. “But it’s not the same. Your situation is different.”
“His wife still deserves to know.”
“Of course,” he says. “You do what you think is best.”