My eyes fill with hot tears. Totally unexpected and even more unacceptable. Stupid emotions. “I don’t know if I’d use that word.” Though with Easton, there’s no other word that comes close to what I felt. “My family never knew.”

He cocks his head to the side. George really is a grade-A listener. “Why was it a secret?”

Because it wasn’t real? Because Carter would’ve killed him? Because I wasn’t enough to make it worth telling the truth? “It was never really a thing, but a . . .” I shrug.

“He slept with you and you fell for him, but nothing came of it.”

Wincing at that painfully accurate summary, I shrug again. Excellent communicating, Shayleigh.

“And then he left for the NFL and forgot about you?”

I bite my bottom lip. “Not exactly. We . . . reconnected a couple of times over the years.”

“Let me guess—when you were convenient.”

It’s not a question so much as an assumption, and I don’t fully understand why it cuts so deep. Because it feels too accurate, or because George can’t imagine me being something more than a convenient diversion to someone like Easton?

George nods slowly, taking my lack of response as confirmation. “Does he know how you felt about him?”

“I think so.” I thought he felt the same, and then he was just a young guy desperately trying to do the right thing. I had to let him go. “It’s not a big deal, but it’s something I need to process.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” He reaches across the table and runs a fingertip over my knuckles. The touch should be comforting, but I want to shake him off. I’m such a mess.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, should I be worried that you’re going to throw away a bright future for this guy?”

“No. Of course not. That’s not why I . . .” I shake my head. I’m not even sure what future he’s referring to. My career, or my relationship with him? Surely the former, right? “I’ve just been thinking about the past. I’m fine. I’m not looking to reunite with Easton, I promise.”

He squeezes my hand. “Good.” He nods to my plate. “Are you done?”

The smell of my favorite pasta carbonara turns my stomach tonight, but George had ordered my usual for me by the time I arrived, and I didn’t want to be rude. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”