My words trail off and he shakes his head before sitting down on the chair in front of my desk.

“I was only joking about the dirty mini-break.” He pauses. “Well, actually I wasn’t.”

“What?” My voice is a bark of astonishment.

He shrugs. “I’ve always wanted to see you and Jesse together.”

I take off my glasses slowly and stare at him. “Have you been drinking this morning?”

He grins. “He’d be really good for you. So much better than bloody Patrick.”

“Would it be any good for me to say for the five-millionth time that I wish you wouldn’t talk about Patrick like that?”

He considers it. “No,” he finally says, and I slump.

“I’m sure my company details list me as the boss. I’m almost positive. Can you get the paperwork for me so I can check?”

He sighs. “You’re nominally in charge, but I’ve known you for far too long to take any notice. I’ve also known Patrick for far too long, but that’s just something between my therapist and myself.”

“He’s not that bad,” I say slowly, driven to stand up for him for some godforsaken reason.

“Zeb, he’s a selfish twat. He’s far too in love with himself to ever make a good partner for anyone. I’d send pitying thoughts over to his new bride if I didn’t have a sneaking suspicion that she’s exactly the same as him.”

I think about arguing, but some of what he’s saying does skirt perilously close to my own thoughts on the matter.

I sigh. “I know all that.”

“So, why are you being his best man? You spent five years doing that, and he rewarded you by cheating on you.”

A year ago I’d have flinched at that, but somehow, now it seems to have happened a decade ago. Like a distant memory. It’s how I know that I’m healed. “I have to,” I finally say. “I made a commitment to doing it, so I’ll go through with it.”

“Why did you promise?”

I shrug. “Because he was full of pretty apologies, and once upon a time I loved him.” I hold my hands up. “I honestly don’t know, but he caught me at a weak moment blathering on about wanting to be friends, and I gave in. There’s no going back. I can’t do that.”

“Zeb.” He hesitates, and I know he’s got a zinger in store. “Zeb, you’re not your dad. It’s a statement of pure fact that I’m giving you now. You are not him. So bending over backwards to not let your wanker of an ex down won’t mean you’ll slide into bad habits.”