Gilbert had her tray set up in front of her, and then he did the same to mine.

I approached, my bare feet moving across the hardwood floor and then the thick rug. My mind was more focused now that the scotch had been siphoned out of my diet. Didn’t need it as a form of pain management.

There was nothing to do for the anger, unfortunately.

I sat in the chair across from her, feeling so much rage for what she’d done, but that slowly tapered off the longer I looked at her.

Her beauty dulled the fury.

Gilbert removed the silver lids to our platters then left us to enjoy our dinner.

Melanie stared at me without touching her silverware, her eyes slightly soft, as if she couldn’t believe I was actually there with her. Gratitude. Joy. A lot of different emotions moved across the surface of her eyes.

It was real.

Raven was always the wedge between us, but now that she had been permanently removed from the situation, she shouldn’t cause any more problems. I wasn’t sure what made me hate her more—destroying the camp, or taking Melanie away.

Melanie grabbed her silverware and started to eat.

I dropped the linen napkin in my lap, sliced into the tender meat, and ate in silence. My arms rested on the table as I chewed, looking across the table at the woman in front of me, the living portrait that could entertain me for hours.

“So…how was work?”

I chewed my food slowly, recalling the remains of the camp, a pile of burned ash. Smoke had lingered in the sky for weeks, making it hard for the men to breathe as they worked to rebuild from scratch. The entire organization had been compromised for months because everything went to shit. “It was fine.”

Her eyes darkened slightly, like she knew that work would always be a touchy subject. “How long will you be here?”

“No idea.” I cut into my food again and took another bite. Even if I knew when I was leaving, I wouldn’t tell her. She might reduce my anger with her appearance, and she might soften my heart with the words she said to me, but there was nothing she could do to earn back the trust she’d pissed away.

She stopped asking questions and ate in silence.

Silence. My preferred form of communication.

I stared at her as I ate my meat, her appearance matching the one I’d stored in my memory while she was gone. The whores I’d bedded didn’t compare to her. They did whatever I paid them to do—and I still couldn’t get off the way I had before. Once I pictured Melanie instead of them, the sex became good, but it still fell short.

“I got a job at a café.” She pushed her potatoes around with her fork.

I stared as I chewed.