Page 4 of Broken Vows

“You couldn’t add two and two together if your life depended on it,” he’d said. “Don’t embarrass us both.”

He had a point—I’m notoriously bad at math. But the sound of his laughter, the way he looked at me like I was delusional for even thinking about it…that was the moment I knew I had to leave.

So I did.

He cut me off completely the very next day. If Finn hadn’t secretly stepped in to cover my rent and bills, I’m not sure how I would have survived those first months. Maverick still has no idea. He’d be furious with Finn if he ever found out.

He doesn’t know where I am, I think. I’m sure he imagines me barely scraping by in some dingy apartment.

Not that this place is much better on the outside. The owners renovated the inside, but the exterior is a bit of a mess. The white paint is peeling in long, sad curls down the siding, especially around the windows and along the eaves. An overgrown bush in the front garden blocks most of the house from the road. The chipped white picket fence leans slightly to one side, and the wooden side gate looks like it could fall off in a mild breeze.

But I love it here.

I lift Fifi’s carrier from the back seat and carry her up the worn porch steps. The front door creaks open to my quiet, sunlit living room.

I smile.

“This is your new home, sweet girl,” I say. “We’re both starting over.”

2

CARMEN

Later that night I’m sitting at a corner table in a cozy downtown wine bar with Diane, candlelight flickering warmly across the table between us. This place is perfect—quiet enough for real conversation, yet alive with soft laughter and the clink of glasses. We sip our pinot noir.

We’d laughed earlier when we stepped out of our houses at the exact same moment to catch the cab. Tonight we’re basically twins: jeans, white sleeveless turtlenecks, black heels, and our hair swept up into messy updos with claw clips. A year ago I wouldn’t have been caught dead dressed this casually. But I left all my designer pieces behind when I walked out on Maverick. No one wears that kind of thing in the suburbs anyway.

While we’re dressed the same, Diane and I couldn’t look more different. She’s tall and slim, with striking bright red hair, while I’m short, blonde and softer through the hips and chest.

We’ve only been here half an hour, and I’m surprised by how much fun I’m having. It feels good to be out of the house.

Until thoughts of Fifi creep in.

“Sorry,” I say, pulling my phone out. “I know it’s so rude⁠—”

“I bet you twenty dollars she’s still asleep,” Diane says with a knowing smile.

I check the camera feed. Sure enough, Fifi is curled up on the little bed I got her, fast asleep. I reach for my purse, but Diane waves me off.

“Keep your money.” Diane leans in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So…what are your thoughts about dating again?”

A laugh escapes me as I shake my head. “That ship has sailed.”

“Interesting.” Her gaze drifts past me toward the bar.

“What?”

“I’m only asking because there’s a very attractive man over there who hasn’t stopped staring at you since we sat down.”

I take another sip of wine and refuse to turn around. “He’s just looking in this direction.”

“He’s looking at you.”

She glances over my shoulder again, far too pleased with herself. “Tall. Dark hair. Looks like he could bench-press a car. And he is definitely staring.”

A small flutter moves through me before I can stop it.

Ridiculous.