“There is somebody at the door.”

A minute passed before my words sunk into his thick skull. Rubbing his eyes, he stifled a yawn and covered his naked lower torso in sweatpants. “Stay here. I’ll check it out but if it’s Matthew, I’m totally gonna hit him in the face with a baseball bat.”

“What baseball bat?”

Andrew grabbed a wooden bat from the closet, answering my question. He smacked it against his hand as he exited the bedroom. A surge of lust coiled in my stomach at the sight of his rippling muscles and pure alpha maleness. When he returned, he was going to get jumped by a naked woman named Haven. Until then my legs spread across the mattress and I bunched the duvet against my chest. A sigh of contentment left my lips. Sometimes, I really missed living alone.

Raised voices, one in particular that sounded too high pitched to be a man’s, caught my attention. I tiptoed to the door and snuck a glance. Andrew’s giant like stature blocked whoever stood in the outside hallway.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I made a mistake.”

“It’s too late for regrets, Camilla.”

The air left my lungs at the mention of the ghost that had haunted our relationship since the beginning. Except, she wasn’t a ghost anymore. It seemed as if Camilla had been resurrected in flesh and bone. I was a fool to think Andrew and I had a shot at a fresh start. The past followed me around like a stray dog. Camilla ducked underneath Andrew’s arm, her fiery red hair matching her expression. The photographs tucked away in Andrew’s drawer didn’t do her beauty justice. She had blunt cut bangs that framed her hazel eyes, milky white skin and a smattering of freckles that dusted her bunny sloped nose.

Her hands went to her slender waist. “It has been six months, not six years.”

“That doesn’t matter. You left.”

“I offered you the chance to come with me but you declined so technically you left this marriage.”

Andrew shot a look toward the door where I was standing. My back flattened against the wall as my heart hammered in my chest. They were married? That couldn’t be correct. Andrew had said they got engaged but he made it sound as if they broke up before they tied the knot. My head peeked out and watched the drama unfold further.

He grabbed the crook of her elbow. “Come on, let’s grab a coffee and we can talk.”

She jerked her arm back and narrowed her eyes. “This is my home too. If you don’t remember, my name is on the mortgage.”

“Yeah, but it was my money that bought this place.”

“God,” Camilla shook her head. “Why are we fighting? I missed you, Andrew.” An avalanche of love poured from her gaze. “We were good together until….”

Andrew’s spine straightened. “Don’t say it…” he said coldly. “Don’t you dare fucking say it.”

She closed the distance between them and placed her palms on his bare chest. Tipping her chin up, Camilla looked at him square in the eye. “When are you going to forgive me?”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You went behind my back.”

“I had to. It wasn’t the right time to bring a child into the world. We had so many more adventures left in us and I knew you wouldn’t see it that way but I’m ready now. I want to give this marriage a second shot, settle down, and plant roots.

My legs gave out underneath me. Tumbling to the plush carpeted floor, the world blurred. Andrew hadn’t painted the full picture. Camilla didn’t leave because of a cultural divide; she left because she’d terminated their child without telling him first. Their story was strife with tragedy and unresolved issues. Nausea rolled as I fought the tears that threatened to escape. The un-matching puzzle pieces clicked into place and I couldn’t help but feel like a moron. Andrew’s family not liking Camilla, Matthew eluding to Andrew’s year of hardship, and the overwhelming need to save me because he couldn’t save his child. My fist fit into my mouth to stifle a scream. Andrew’s and my love story, while one for the books, couldn’t continue—not until he closed the chapter with Camilla. Marriage was a legal binding contract and unlike my mother, I didn’t get involved with married men. Hanging on by a string, I hoisted myself to my feet and flung open his closet doors. My clothes and his were divided into two sections. The future we could have had stabbed me in the solar plexus. He was the first guy I would haven’t have minded living out the American dream with. White picket fence, a gaggle of children, and a dog named Spike. My numbness thawed and gave way to betrayal. It seeped into veins like a disease. Black spots floated in my vision. I blindly ripped my meager wardrobe off their respective hangers, forming a pile on the floor. Andrew had led me to believe that a happy ending was possible. He captured my heart with his Casanova lines, tantalizing kisses and his purer than gold soul that wasn’t so pure after all. Throwing everything into an opened suitcase, I clicked it closed. Andrew and Camilla’s voices had faded to a murmur. I looked around Andrew’s bedroom without a clue where to go. Monica had made it abundantly clear she didn’t have room while Mallory was planning a wedding. Fueled by despair and agony, a crazy thought popped into my head. Why wait? The road trip I was planning to take with Andrew could be pushed up to tomorrow, or tonight. Let’s face it, staying in a city that hosted my broken relationships, first with my mother and now with Andrew, didn’t sound appealing. I needed a do-over, somewhere where nobody knew my name. There was one problem: money. The nightclub had cut back on my shifts and I had three hundred dollars to my name. They owed me a check, which I had to pick up before I left, nonetheless, an extra two hundred wouldn’t be enough for gas, cheap motels along the way, and first and last month’s rent if I decided to stay wherever I ended up. Out of the corner of my eye, Andrew’s frat ring shimmered on the armoire. No amount of reasoning would lessen the guilt but guilt was a best friend of mine—heartache wasn’t. After Andrew, I was done with love. A thousand-pound elephant sat on my chest, crushing my internal organs. Swiping the ring into my pocket, I picked up the suitcase. With one last look around, I put one foot one in front of the other until the cold wintery Detroit morning slapped me across the face. The sheets ice of pouring from the sky disguised my tears. To everybody else, I looked like a girl about to go on a journey. They didn’t see the damage inside.

“Haven!”

Andrew’s smoky voice wrapped around my throat, squeezing the last remnants of my sanity free. I whirled around, guns blazing. He slid to a stop half a block away. His shoeless feet and pajamas pants spoke to the fact he’d run out of the apartment in a hurry. For a half second, I was concerned he would catch hypothermia until it dawned on me his well being wasn’t my responsibility anymore. It was Camilla’s, his wife’s responsibility. My knees grew weak.

“You heard?” Andrew asked but it wasn’t a question. “Haven…” my name dropped from his tongue as a desperate plea. “I fucked up, please….”

I laughed bitterly. “You really think that’s all you have to do? Mutter a few apologies and the trust you destroyed will be regained. You’re MARRIED?!”

The people walking past gave us a wide berth. I was just another stupid girl who’d given her heart away to the wrong man.

Andrew shuffled a few steps forward, his palms pressed together. “Camilla and I aren’t married. We stop being married as soon as she stepped onto that plane.”

“Did you sign legal documents stating that fact?”

“No, but….”

I cut him off. “Then you are married.”

“I wanted to make our divorce legal but after what happened….” His voice grew thick and he cleared this throat. “It didn’t seem right to bring more heartache upon her—upon us.”

“What happened, Andrew? What’s the real story?” He crossed his arms over chest, shivering. The sleet had morphed into below zero snowfall. Sympathy broke through the anger. “Go upstairs and grab a jacket. I’ll wait here.”