"Willow, if you hadn't followed me here and parked wherever you pleased, none of this would've happened."
If he'd paid even the slightest attention, he would have seen my swollen, tear-ravaged eyes. He would have noticed the black mourning pin still fastened to my suit.
But he saw nothing.
The woman's gaze drifted between us.
"Do you two... know each other?"
Curtis said nothing.
So that was it. Six years of sharing a life, and he couldn't even give me a straight answer.
The woman turned to leave.
Curtis lunged forward and caught her wrist.
"Where are you going?"
"Let go of me. You already have someone new—why are you still holding on?"
He ignored her struggling, pulled her into his arms, and guided her firmly into my car.
"You're hurt. Stop being so stubborn."
"I'm taking you to the hospital."
His voice left no room for argument.
As he climbed into the driver's seat, he tossed me one last look. Light. Careless. Like I was an afterthought.
"I'm borrowing the car. Call yourself a ride."
The car pulled away and vanished down the road.
I clutched my throbbing ankle and sank onto the curb.
That woman—it wasn't the first time I'd seen her.