“I thought she was nice when I met her.”

I frown. “You met her? This last time she was in Jackson Harbor?”

“No, I met her after Dad’s funeral. She . . .” Shay cocks her head to the side. “You didn’t know she came to talk to me?”

Well, fuck. “No. I didn’t.” The words come out with a bite Shay doesn’t deserve.

Shay shakes her head. “It wasn’t a big deal. She just wanted me to understand why you were staying married.”

My stomach sours. “She shouldn’t have done that. I wanted to tell you myself.”

“But I wasn’t taking your calls.”

I look away. It hurts to remember those days. The grief of losing Frank to cancer and losing Shay to circumstance. The panic and fear of watching my daughter fight for her life.

“Hello, Shayleigh.”

I blink away my memories as Professor Douche steps up to the bench where Shay and I are sitting.

“George,” she says tightly. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just at your apartment. I wanted to check on you.” His gaze is all over her, and I want to punch him. This asshole is married, and he just went to her apartment. I’d bet my Laguna house he was going to try to talk her into bed while he was “checking” on her. “How are your revisions coming?”

She flinches, and I wonder if it’s worry about her dissertation or anger that she’s trying hard to keep off her face. “They’re fine. I’m almost done.”

“They need to be in by Monday.”

“Not a problem.”

His gaze shifts to me, and he chuckles, shaking his head before turning his eyes back to Shay. “Looks like you were right about him.”

She stiffens. “George—”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

George shrugs. “She said you only fuck her when it’s convenient for you. And here you are. I figured that was why she ended things, but she wouldn’t admit it.” He laughs again as he walks away. “You two enjoy yourselves.”

When I pull my eyes off the asshole hipster to look at Shay, she’s staring at the ground. “You told him that I only fuck you when it’s convenient for me?”

She closes her eyes. “He put words in my mouth. They might have felt true, but I didn’t say it.”

I flinch. They felt true. “You haven’t told him that you know about his wife, have you?”

“No,” she whispers. “I haven’t seen him and haven’t wanted to.” Standing, she tosses the remnants of her cone in the trash can then wraps her arms around herself and shivers. “Can you take me and Lilly back to my car? I want to go home.”