Aiden had been to exactly one Thanksgiving at my parents’ place, and he’d spent most of the time working on his phone. He’d have brought his laptop, but he knew my brothers’ reputation from their high school wrestling days and surmised that my two nephews and only niece would be just as rambunctious.

The holidays we didn’t go to King’s Creek, I hosted at our house. His house. “I didn’t want to get crap from Matt about Aiden working all the time.”

I don’t want to think about what you gotta do to get that guy’s mind off work, Katie-bear.

Aiden’s mind was never off work, so whatever I had to offer hadn’t been enough.

“Is it just working?” Mom asked carefully, her tone asking if Aiden had cheated on me. If the answer was no, Mom wouldn’t bother with Jason or Matt. She’d hitch up her sweats and charge to the King Oil headquarters building herself.

I twisted my fingers together. “I think so, but it’s not like I really know him.” I’d thought I had. I’d thought I’d understood him and I’d been willing to accept what he was like. But after that morning at the coffee shop when I’d learned that my husband was so dedicated to the family he’d married a near stranger to guard its money—I wasn’t sure how much I really knew him.

Long hours. Work trips. Meetings when he couldn’t be contacted.

My stomach churned. Would I know if he had a mistress, or another family entirely? I’d trusted him. And I’d been wrong.

Mom sucked her tongue against her teeth. “Men are known to think with the wrong head. Have you talked to him about the way you’re feeling?”

When would I have talked to him? Would he have cared? “I thought he was a good guy. That was all I wanted. To find a good guy like you found Randall.” My stepfather had married Mom and moved us from a dilapidated single-wide trailer to this double-wide when I was two. Randall was quiet, introspective, and a man of his word. “But maybe he’s more like Dad.”

“He ain’t like your dad.” Mom snorted and switched the way she crossed her legs. “You’d know better than me.”

Would I? Handsome. Charming when he needed to be. More experienced. I’d fallen hard just like Mom had. Only Dad had been more obvious. I’d only been a toddler when my parents divorced. Jason was only ten months older than me, and Mattie was four years older. Mattie remembered the fights. Mom’s crying. He and Jason adored Randall, and so did I, but they’d taken to protecting Mom’s feelings like Randall did. Which was why I had a relationship with our dad and my brothers didn’t.