Page 48 of Reticent

“I bought it right after my divorce.”

We don’t talk about his marriage to Jemma. Not that I don’t think he’d be open to it. But with everything going on in our lives and a baby on the way, it just hasn’t come up. I decide to broach the subject now. “How long were you and Jemma together?”

“Since we were kids, fifteen years old.”

My brows lift in surprise. “You married your high school sweetheart?” Not what I would expect from a player.

He takes a pull from his beer bottle. “I did. She went to Paris with me when I left for culinary school. I married her a year later.”

“So you were what? Nineteen?”

He nods in affirmative. “We were so young.”

“Do you regret marrying her?”

He thinks for a moment. “No. We built a life together. We had some great times mixed in with the bad. And in the end, I learned a lot about myself, and I think she did too.”

I’m intrigued. “Like what?”

“I think she learned not to settle for someone who isn’t willing to sacrifice their world for her.” He stretches his arm out on the back of the couch, beer bottle in his grip. “Jemma always came second. In high school, it was to my friends. And in Paris, she came second to culinary school. When we moved back to the States, it was to my career. I never consulted her about the moves in my career. I worked constantly. And when she wanted me to pull back to start a family, I told her it wasn’t the right time.” He stares at the crackling fire. “I don’t blame her for cheating—I did at the time. But looking back … I left our marriage way before she did.”

“Wow,” I say as the crackling fire fills in a few quiet seconds. “What did you learn about yourself?”

“That marriage isn’t for me. I like my life exactly how it is. Marriage is hard. Relationships are hard. They take work that I’m not willing to do. I’m not looking for that type of companionship anymore.”

Something inside of me deflates a little. “What happens if the person you’re sleeping with gets caught up and wants more? And has that happened before?”

“It has, and I’ve ended it,” he says matter-of-factly. Straight savage.

“Do you think Jessica might have feelings for you?”

“Jessica’s still in love with her ex-husband, which is why what we had worked.”

Had. As in past tense. I nod slowly, absorbing that information. “Have you ever been in love with anyone else since the divorce?”

He scrubs his chin with the hand holding his beer. “Yes.”

“Jessica?”

“No.”

Both answers surprise me. So does the pang of jealousy that hits me like a ton of bricks.

Hunter runs a hand through his hair, leaving it in slight disarray. “I slept with my best friend’s girl a couple of months after my divorce.”

Disappointment crashes into me. “Daryl’s girlfriend?”

“No. Quentin’s. They weren’t together when it happened, but I shouldn’t have crossed that line. Fatima was always his, even when she wasn’t.” Hunter’s demeanor is sobering. I think he may have loved her.

“Are you still in love with her?”

“No,” he answers without hesitation.

“Are you sure?” The thought of him loving someone—giving them his heart and not just his body—is something I struggle with. Which is crazy because he isn’t mine.

“I’m sure. I told you. I’m done with that part of my life. And she and Quentin are really great together.”

“So you don’t want to fall in love again. Like ever?”