Grady contemplated not answering. Or lying. But he didn’t lie—not to other people anyway. “My seventeenth.”

She frowned, obviously trying to piece together his sparse information, and he watched as realization dawned. “That’s a…long time ago.”

He sighed. He could stand here slowly bleeding to death while she eked the information out of him one question at a time, or he could just rip off the Band-Aid.

“Bethany was my high school girlfriend. We started going out when we were fifteen. She died in the same accident that killed my parents.”

“Oh god, Joshua…” She pressed a hand to her chest, her blue eyes stricken as she searched his face for Grady didn’t know what. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t… Why didn’t you say something back when you told me about your parents?”

Even from across the room, he could see the shimmer of moisture in her eyes, and it was like a hot fist to his gut. As was the way she said Joshua, all soft and brimming with emotion. He hadn’t said anything because of this. Because he didn’t want to be the object of anyone’s pity, especially not almost two decades later. The deaths of Bethany and his parents had been a terrible tragedy, but they were in the past.

He shrugged. “Like you said, it was a long time ago.”

And it was none of her damn business. Sure, maybe it was something a guy confessed to a girlfriend, but Suzanne wasn’t a real girlfriend, and he couldn’t bear the thought that she’d look at him differently now.

“Maybe,” she conceded, her voice soft. “Doesn’t make it any less shitty.”

Grady gave a soft snort. Wasn’t that the truth? But he didn’t have time to discuss ancient history. “I really have to get to my office. Bureau says there’s going to be a blizzard night after next, and there are things I need to do.”

“Okay. Sure.” She nodded. “I…left a painting in there for you. It’s Adam.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

She shrugged, but a melting pot of emotions brimmed in her expressive blue eyes. It obviously hadn’t been easy. “My penance. For the pregnancy thing.”

Grady blinked. He hadn’t thought to ask for one. He must be getting soft. But the pregnant thing was just another example of the collateral damage caused by her lie, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to knock it back. The painting reminded him what they were doing here was fake, because coming home to her every night was starting to feel a little too real.