Michael’s jaw tightened.
“Laura.”
He used that warning tone.
The same quiet voice he used during our marriage whenever he wanted to remind me not to embarrass him.
“Whatever point you’re trying to make by coming here—”
“I’m not making a point.”
“How did you even know we would be here?”
That question told me more than he realized.
He genuinely believed my life still revolved around him.
That thirteen years later I might research his schedule, discover which events he attended, then appear dramatically to upset his perfect new existence.
“I didn’t.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Then why are you here?”
I looked over my shoulder.
“Boys?”
Noah and Nathan stepped forward.
They were identical twins, but only to strangers.
I could tell them apart from a football field away.
Noah stood slightly straighter, always alert, always measuring the room before entering it.
Nathan had his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, expression unreadable.
