“I know,” he says. “But Morris will help. He’ll do things the right way.”

He shifts, and I feel the muscles in his hand twitch.

“I saw him in court today, by the way. Morris. It was the custody hearing for your Floyds.”

“I know. The verdict’s tomorrow. I’m planning to be there for that.”

He takes a deep breath, perhaps happy to be on safer work-related ground. “You know, they weren’t at all how you described them.”

I look up at him sharply. “The Floyds? What do you mean?”

“To be honest, the Floyds were … kind of gentle. I mean, struggling, obviously, but they didn’t strike me as monsters. They looked like people well on the road to recovery.”

“Maybe they present better publicly.” I pull my hand away, take a sip of my wine.

“Right,” he says, watching me. “Maybe that’s it.”

But there’s a sliver of doubt in him, a shadow. I let a beat go by. In his kitchen, a clock ticks. Outside, the rain is letting up. “It’s good to see you, Sully. To be here. I’ve missed you.”

“Look, Alex, I have to ask you: What’s happening with Chase?” He’s shy, primed. He’s been thinking about me all week.

“We’re breaking up,” I say, studying my hands, folded now in my lap. My voice shakes. “If we don’t have trust, we don’t have anything. You’re the only one I’ve got, Sully.”

It’s a silent, smooth movement when he pulls me toward him, his arms around me. His face is inches from mine. We stare at each other for only a second before he kisses me, and this time we don’t stop. We’re urgent and heavy, pulling at each other’s clothes. When I pictured this moment, I knew it would be exactly this. That it would build between us and it would flood, the cascade perfectly timed. I planned for it all along, kept him close for a reason. There’s no way Ruth can get to him, not when he’s entirely with me.

We tumble from our seats to the floor, the cold tiling beneath my bare shoulders a shock. We’re moving so fast—it’s out of control—except all of it is calculated precision. I exhale into him, making all the right sounds, and our bodies relax and spark at exactly the same time.

“I love you,” he says, and I believe him. “I’ve loved you from the first time I saw you in that meeting, so worked up.”

I smile into his lips. “You have?”

“Of course. And I asked you out for that first coffee together. I knew even then that you and I are cut from the same cloth.”

“We are.” I pull him closer. “Do you love me no matter what?”

“No matter what,” he repeats.