“Sure you got over it,” she scoffs, folding her arms. “So, when was the last time you had a boyfriend again, Evie?”

“Um…”

“Exactly.” She laughs. “Last time you went on a date?”

“Jesus, I don’t know!” I throw my hands up.

“It was five years ago, and it’s the only date I can remember you going on. You only went because it was a double date with Terri, that girl you worked with at the coffee house, and she’d set you up without you knowing. The last boyfriend you had was your husband.”

“He’s not my husband.” Okay, that’s not exactly true. But I’m not telling her that.

Dad knows, but Casey doesn’t need to. I told him after Adam came to see me. I needed someone to talk to. And Dad knows all the sordid history. I know I can trust him, and I can tell him anything without any judgment.

But if I tell Casey, then I’ll have to explain a whole lot of other things that I can’t explain, things she doesn’t need to know.

“Ex-husband. Whatever. But it must have been hard to see him. I might have been young and still sick at the time, but I remember, Evie. I remember how bad it was for you after we left Malibu and moved to San Fran. You were like a ghost for that first year.”

I really don’t want to talk about this.

“Seeing him wasn’t hard, Case. A little weird, yes. Hard, no.” The only thing harder was leaving him in the first place. “Can we stop talking about this now?” I can feel myself starting to crack.

“Why? Because he was the love of your life?”

“No, because I want to watch my show. And he was not the love of my life, FYI.” God, I sound like a teenager.

“Sure. So, you just married some guy you kind of liked when you were eighteen years old?”

“Puppy love. You’ve heard of that. Marrying Adam was a mistake, and I got over it.”

“You’re such a bullshitter. You never got over him.”

“Oh my God!” I blow up. “Yes, I did!”

Sometimes, I feel like I’ve been more of a mother to Casey over the years than a sister. But it’s at times like this when I’m reminded that I’m definitely her sister.

“You keep telling yourself that. But you’ve been acting weird since you saw him, and now, you’re spending your days off on the sofa with Chunky Monkey for company, which is on your face, by the way.”

I touch a hand to my face, and yep, there it is. Ice cream smeared on my cheek. Classy. Lifting my T-shirt—which is actually Adam’s old Rolling Stones T-shirt that I had claimed as mine when we first started dating—I wipe the ice cream from my face.

“Look, what is your problem here, Case? Why the big interrogation about Adam?”

Her face drops, and I instantly feel like shit.

“I’m just worried about you, that’s all,” she says quietly, sounding wounded, making me feel even shitter.

“Case, I’m okay,” I tell her softly, placing my hand on her arm.

I know why she worries. Since Mom died and since her illness, she has this innate fear of losing Dad or me. It can make her thoughts irrational at times, especially when she gets something in her head. She probably thinks that Adam being back in my life is hurting me. And she will have, unintentionally distorted it her head, to it being a way that she could lose me.

“There is nothing to worry about, honey. Adam has nothing to do with anything.” Except that he has something to do with everything. “He’s just someone I used to know.”

I have to stop myself from breaking out in song.

“Just promise me, you’ll talk to me if you need to?”

I brush her hair back off her face. “I promise.”

She stares at me for a long moment.

Then, she picks up her bag and stands. “Okay, well, I’ll see you later.” She bends down and kisses my cheek. “Try not to eat yourself into a coma, okay?”

“Okay.” I press Play on the remote as I hear the front door close.

Wouldn’t you believe it? My cell starts ringing—well, vibrating against my butt.

Mothereffer!

Lifting up, I retrieve my cell. I check the screen. It’s Stan, my divorce lawyer.

I connect the call and put the phone to my ear. “Hey, Stan. Everything okay?”

“Hi. Well, I guess it depends on how you define okay.”

“Usually, right along with something awesome.”

“Well then, I have something awesome for you—or should I say, I have awesome news.”

My bat signal turns on. “What’s the awesome news?”

“I just heard from Adam’s lawyer. He’s agreed to the divorce, which means it’ll go through nice and quickly.”

“Okay.” Even though I knew Adam would agree, I still feel a sinking loss in my stomach.

“But that’s not the awesome. The awesome is that he’s agreed to the divorce on his terms, and they are in your favor.”

“My favor?”

“Yes. Massively in your favor. He is giving you a lot of money, Evie.”

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Money. He’s giving you a large amount of money as part of the divorce settlement.”

“But I don’t want a settlement. I never asked for that. Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, and I wouldn’t questions it. Adam is offering to give you pretty much his net worth. He’s keeping Gunner Entertainment and his house, and that’s all he wants. The rest is yours.”

“His net worth? I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” My tongue feels like rubber in my mouth.

“His net worth is his total assets, minus outside liabilities, negating the studio. And as he personally owns only one house, Adam’s asset is cash and lots of it.”

“I know what net worth is. I just…” I can’t get my brain and mouth into the same gear.

It doesn’t matter though because Stan is on a roll. “We’re talking millions here, Evie. Nine figures. This divorce is about to make you a very rich woman.”

Millions? Nine figures?

I sit up so quickly that the remote goes flying off my lap and into the coffee table with a loud thud.

“He’s giving me all his money?” I gasp. “But why? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Sense or not, it’s about to be yours.”

“But I don’t want his money!”

“Well, whether or not you want it, he’s determined to give it to you.”

I press my shaking hand to my muddled head. “Can I contest his terms?”

Stan coughs out a laugh. “You can, but I can’t see why you would.” He sounds confused. He’s not the only one.

And he probably thinks I’m mental, but I don’t care. The only mental one here is Adam. He’s clearly lost his freaking mind.

I don’t want his money. I never did.

I have no clue as to why he’s doing this.

“I want to contest. You send those papers back and tell him no way am I divorcing him on those terms.”

There’s silence, and then Stan roars out a laugh. “I have to say, this is the strangest divorce case I’ve ever dealt with. Normally, the husband is holding back on funds, and the wife is fighting for them. Never have I had a husband offering everything and the wife wanting nothing.”

“Yeah, well, nothing about my and Adam’s marriage was ever conventional.” I sigh, dragging my hand down my face. “I just don’t understand why he’s doing this. Is he being forced to?”

“Forced? By whom?”

“I don’t know. The law? I mean, in Cali, is there a law that says he has to give me money?”

“Technically, the law states, if there’s no prenuptial agreement, then assets will be split fifty-fifty. But because of your unique circumstances—the fact that you filed on abandonment, putting yourself at fault, along with the length of time you’ve been separated, and you leaving him ten years ago—then no. There isn’t a judge that would award in your favor.”

“And his lawyer would have told him all this?”

“I would imagine so.”

“I just…” I rub at my head. “None of this makes sense.”

“Don’t make sense of it. Just be happy, and start thinking about how you’re going to spend your money. Look, I have to go. I have to be in court in fifteen minutes. We’ll talk soon.”