“Lindsay, come on. That guy was totally flirting with you.”

“He’s cocky and arrogant. I think what you see as flirting is his default position. That’s not why you came out here today, is it? To scope out the competition?”

“Oh my god, of course not. I came because I know I’ve upset you by not being more worried about Hope, and I wanted to make it right.”

“I mean, not everyone is capable of cheating.” She regretted the words the second she heard them leave her mouth.

“Wow. Okay, so you are mad at me.”

The first time Lindsay asked why his marriage didn’t work out, Scott had said all the right things. That he had fallen in love with someone else. That it didn’t justify crossing that line while he was still married. That he had ended up hurting two women he cared about and breaking up his daughter’s family. That he would never forgive himself and wished he could go back in time and change it all. And that it was a mistake he would never, ever make again. Lindsay could not have asked for more honesty.

But here’s the thing: sometimes she wished she didn’t know. It changed how she saw him. If he could fall in love with someone else while he had a wife and a baby, who was to say he wouldn’t do the same to her? What had he been missing in his marriage that allowed him to accept his attractive coworker’s invitation for a nightcap at the hotel bar in the first place? It made her wonder if at some level, Scott would always need more love, more assurances, more adoration, more whatever-it-was-that-certain-men-needed, than she could ever possibly give him. Was that the reason he always joked that she’d never love him the way she loved Hope? Or why he insisted that some cop was flirting with her? How long before whatever justification he had used to rationalize his betrayal of his ex-wife might be wielded against her as well?

“I’m sorry. I’m . . . frustrated. I didn’t ask you to come out here with me, and I can’t forget that until now you’ve been sounding pretty convinced that Hope just up and left because she wanted to get away from me. Honestly, I think part of you is actually happy that she’s gone. I’m killing myself trying to find her, and you’ve made these passive-aggressive comments like we never give each other space.”

“It’s not passive-aggressive. It’s just . . . true.” He opened his mouth to say even more, but caught himself and pressed his lips together instead.

“What?”

He shook his head as if he were already regretting his next words. “Let’s just say that I’m not the only person who thinks you and Hope are sort of codependent.”