30. “We’re square.”
“WE’RE SQUARE.”
YASMINE
By the time the doorbell rang, I’d already imagined opening the door three different ways.
One where I was all lace and robe—a terrible idea for cooking, but a very good idea for Hale.
One where I kept it casual, slacks and a tank, like feeding him didn’t feel weirdly intimate.
And one where I put on the dress hanging from my closet door and let the night be what it was—a date, even if neither of us had said the word.
That was the one I chose, because I wanted him to know I’d tried.
The dress was the color of wet slate, the fabric almost liquid under the candlelight. I’d bought it months ago and never had a reason to wear it.
Tonight, I had one.
The wine had been open long enough to breathe, the steaks were salted and waiting, and every candle I owned was doing its best to make my apartment look like a woman who had her life together.
A lie, mostly.
But a pretty one.
I was in the bathroom, zipped into the dress and finishing my blush, when the bell rang.
Early. Good.
I capped the blush, took one last look at myself in the mirror, and decided Hale Henry could survive one cheek slightly less blended than the other.
Barefoot, gloss still tacky on my lips, I crossed the apartment and opened the door with my smile already waiting.
It died there.
Not Hale.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to CeeCee.”
“She’s not here.”
His mouth pulled tight, disbelief turning mean. “Right.”
“She took an Uber. She’s out.”
His gaze slid past me into the apartment, already searching. “I’ll wait.”
“No, you won’t.” I kept my hand on the door.
“Yasmine—”
“I said no. She doesn’t want to see you. When she’s ready to talk, she’ll call you.”
“She’s my wife.”
“And I’m telling you she’s not here and you need to leave.”
“I don’t believe you.” He pushed past me, shoulder clipping mine hard enough to knock me backward.
“Shaun—”
By the time I caught my balance, he was already halfway down the hall.
“CeeCee!”
I followed him. “She’s not here. I—”
The spare room door flew open.
Empty. The bed was made, CeeCee’s things still on the dresser, but no CeeCee.
He turned on me. “Where is she?”
“I told you. Out.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. And even if I did, I won’t tell you.”
“She’s my wife, Yasmine. She’s carrying my kid. I have a right—”
“A right to what? Tear through my apartment?” I stepped back toward the hallway. “Get out. Now.”
He moved toward me, and I stepped in front of the bedroom door. My bedroom.
“What’s in there?”
“The fuck, Shaun. I don’t know how many times—”
His fingers dug into my arm, then he shoved me aside. Like I was furniture. Like I was nothing.
My back hit the doorframe. Hard. My head knocked against the wood, and for one clean second all I felt was fear.
Then Shaun pushed open the bedroom door.
Empty.
He stood there, breathing hard, staring at my neatly made bed. The candle on the nightstand.
“She’s really not here,” he muttered, surprise in his tone.
Anger closed around the fear like a fist. “Get out.”
He turned. “Yasmine—”
“Get the fuck out of my apartment!”
His eyes moved over me, finally taking in the way I was pressed against the wall. The way I was breathing through it. For half a second, something like shock crossed his face. Then he swallowed it. “I barely touched you.”
“You shoved me into a wall.” My voice came out wrong. “In my own home. Because I wouldn’t let you search my bedroom. You put your hands on me.”
“I was looking for my wife—”
“Fuck that. Fuck your excuses.” I pushed off the doorframe. My back screamed. “She filed for divorce. She’s done. And after tonight, so am I.”
His face hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m done, Shaun. All the way. I’m done looking past shit. Done keeping the peace. Done swallowing the truth so everybody else can stay comfortable. I’m fucking done.”
He made that dismissive sound in the back of his throat. “Stop with all the drama already, Yasmine. Every time you decide somebody needs the truth, I get fucked over. This is the second time you’ve blown up my family.”
“Second time?” My voice rose, and I let it. “So when Daddy cheated, that was on me. Now you cheat, and that’s on me too?”
“He left because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut—”
“And what’s your excuse?” I laughed bitterly.
“Daddy left because he got caught. He left because he was a fucking coward who’d rather run and start fresh than face what he broke.
And you’ve spent years making that my fault because it hurt less than admitting your hero was a piece of shit who abandoned his own kids. ”
His whole face went tight. “Shut your fucking mouth about him.”
“Get it through your thick skull. He didn’t just leave Mama.
He left all of us. He saw a chance at a clean slate and ran straight for it.
And look at you—CeeCee’s pregnant with your baby and you’re in my apartment shoving me into walls because you can’t handle that she finally doesn’t want your ass anymore. ”
He flinched, and for a second I saw the scared kid underneath, still waiting on the father who’d abandoned.
I aimed for him anyway.
“You want to be him so bad? Congratulations, Shaun. You made it. But don’t worry. When you bail on that child, I’ll be right there to tell him exactly what a piece of shit his daddy is.”
“Fuck you,” he spat.
“Well, fuck you right back.” My voice cracked. “You broke my heart.”
“Then we’re square,” he said.
I felt that one. I hated that I felt it, but I did. “Get out.”
He walked past me without another word. The front door slammed hard enough to shake the walls.
I stood in the hallway, listening to the apartment settle around the space he’d left behind.
The candles were still burning. The steaks sat on the counter. The wine was open, two glasses waiting beside the bottle.
My back throbbed where it had hit the doorframe. When I pressed my hand to it, the pain spread wide and hot beneath my palm.
I didn’t know if I felt lighter or hollow. Maybe those were the same thing.
In the kitchen, I turned off the stove.
The doorbell rang.
I checked the peephole this time.
Hale.
I opened the door.
“Hey, you.” I tried to smile. “You’re early.”
He stepped in and leaned down to kiss me, then stopped when he saw my face. “Darlin’?”
I blinked hard against the sting in my eyes.
“Yasmine. Honey, hey.” His voice changed, going careful. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” My voice came out too thin.
He stepped closer, his hand gentle at my jaw. “Look at me, baby.”
I couldn’t.
His other hand settled at my shoulder. “Talk to me.”
I pulled away.
“It’s fine. Really.” I turned toward the kitchen. “Let me just—”
“Yasmine.”
I stopped.
“You’re shaking.”
I looked down at my hands. He was right. Trembling.
“Talk to me.”
“Shaun stopped by looking for CeeCee.” I swallowed. “She wasn’t here. We had a fight.”
“Okay.” His eyes moved over me, careful and quick. “Bad one, then.”
“Yeah. Had ourselves a come-to-Jesus, you might say.”
His expression eased, just a little. “Come here before you shake apart on me. Let me have you a second.”
I blinked, then nodded, because yes. I very much wanted to be held.
He wrapped me up slow, one hand spreading warm across my back.
I flinched and Hale went still.
Completely still.
His hand lifted from my back with sudden care.
“Yasmine.” His voice went lower. “When you say fight…”
I swallowed.
“Did he put his hands on you?”
My head moved before I could stop it. No. But no wasn’t true enough. “He shoved me out of the way, and I hit the doorframe.”
His jaw set, his eyes went flat, and every soft thing in him hardened. Easy Hale was gone. He looked like he could put Shaun through a wall and sleep just fine about it.
“Hale?” It came out smaller than I meant it to.
His hand flexed once at his side.
Then he breathed out. Slow. Hard. Pulled it all back down, deliberate, piece by piece, until the only thing left in his face was me.
“Okay,” he said quietly, though it wasn’t. “Okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“All right.” His voice gentled, but his eyes didn’t. “Come here. Come back to me.”
I stepped into him again, and this time he gathered me in carefully, one arm high around my shoulders, the other low at my waist, nowhere near the hurt place.
“I was going to make you dinner,” I said into his shirt, like that mattered now. “I got dressed up.”
“I see that.” He held me a little closer. “You look beautiful, darlin’.”
It wasn’t how I’d wanted to hear it. But I took it anyway.
I buried my face against his chest and let the tears come.
He asked for nothing else. He only held me.
The steaks went cold on the counter. The wine sat untouched.
The candle burned all the way down.