ak my leg. That' s how Liam Miller and I had spent the last five years. We w

t them home. He' d have them sit in my chair at the dining table, use my favorite mug for coffee, and leave a trace of their perfume on his c

ve her new husband. I found that letter. I hid it. I watched as Liam' s hope turned to despair, and when Sarah never showed up, he got drunk. Blind drunk. I took my chance. I got him to the courthouse, and wh

back in town, divorced and broke. Liam had been spending all his t

ive years of unspoken hatred. He pushed a file across the table

he said, his voice flat

to fight. I had fought for him for so long, enduring his public humiliations and private cr

," I

hand halfway to lighting a cigarette. He looked up at me, his dark eyes narrowing with suspicion. He c

he asked, his voic

is time. I picked up the agreement and starte

m acceptance. It unnerved him. He finally lit his cigarette, the smoke curling around his head, obscuring his expression

ckness, a poison that had been slowly killing me for years. But he would never know that. He wo

rous settlement, a few properties, some cash. But

as cool as his. "You're offering me 20

, harsh laugh. "You'

ed money. It was my marketing expertise that put you on the map. Without me, you' d still be working o

urtain between us. I thought he would argue, that he would fi

e," he said, his voice crisp and decisive. "50%

ion-dollar company was a small price to pay to finally bring Sarah back into his life. The thought

against the floor. "Good. I'll

walk out of that roo

door. It sounded different. Muffled,

k over my sho

the end. "Why did you agree so easily? You f

ch my eyes. I gave him the answer he expected, the one that

dismissive. "I'm tired of playing this game.

he ghost of his past and the ashes of our future,