It took every piece of willpower I had not to say anything else. If I called him out on how he treated his live-in girlfriend, I’d potentially be opening myself up to a goddamn fist fight in the middle of work. That was the type of guy Sean was—he’d never let something like that go.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” I repeated slowly, my voice flat.

Sean’s head jerked back in surprise just as Clovis ambled over to my desk.

“What did he do this time?” he asked, jerking his chin toward Sean.

“He’s all bent out of shape because his girlfriend doesn’t like me,” Sean said. I could see him gearing up for what would be a huge fucking blowup, when Clovis slapped him hard on the back.

“She’s got good taste,” he joked.

We watched Sean stomp off across the room, and I let out a sigh. I couldn’t fucking stand that guy.

“Thanks, man,” I said to Clovis as he leaned against my desk.

“What was that all about?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Sarai handed him his ass last night, so he came over trying to save face,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

Clovis laughed. “What a dick.”

“No shit. He treats his girlfriend like complete garbage.”

“We already knew that,” Clovis murmured.

“Yeah, well, it’s probably worse than what we’re seeing,” I said.

“That bad?”

“I don’t know, man,” I replied, thinking about the way Hailey had looked in the kitchen last night. “It’s pretty bad.”

As Clovis walked away, I stretched out my shoulders and tried to get back to work. It was hard to focus, though, when so many thoughts were racing through my head. It sucked that Sean was with Sarai’s best friend, because I didn’t want him anywhere near her.

*  *  *

“Hey, Ma,” I said, smiling when she answered the phone a few days later.

“Alex! It feels like we haven’t talked in weeks,” she said, a smile in her voice.

“It’s only been one,” I replied.

“Well, I don’t know why you only call on Sundays,” my mom said. “I’d love to hear from you every day.”

“The phone works both ways,” I teased.

“Well, I know that.”

“But, uh.” I paused. “Don’t call me every day, all right?”

Mom laughed but made no promises.

“How are things?” she asked. “Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?”

“That’s actually what I was calling about—”

“You can’t make it,” she said, disappointment clear. “Damn it all.”

“Mom.” I cut her off with a short laugh. “Yes, I’m coming up for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, good.”

“I just wanted to give you a heads-up that I’m bringing someone with me.”

“You are?” she asked curiously.

“Yeah, if that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” she scoffed. “You know you don’t have to ask. Everyone’s invited to Thanksgiving.”