“How do you know I won’t call him now? Tell him your plans, foil them?”

He smiled. “You want out of this marriage and have been for several years. The last time you tried to leave was a year ago. You tell me, are you going to call him? Are you going to give up your last chance of being free of him at last? There won’t be a chance like this, and you know he’s not going to change. There is not going to be an epiphany from him. He doesn’t care. He’s a selfish prick who’ll do whatever he wants to get it. You know all of this. It’s your last chance.”

“I want him gone,” she said. “I want him gone and my son back. Can you give me that?”

“I’m going to give you that. You won’t see him again.”

He opened the door and took a step out.

The night was getting warm again. He preferred the warmer weather, and his thoughts immediately went to Robin. He wondered what kind of weather she liked.

Not that it really mattered, he tried to tell himself. He wasn’t the kind of guy who got all personal with women.

Robin’s not like another woman.

Dumping O’Klaren’s bag in the trunk of his car, he climbed behind the wheel, taking off back to his home.

He had to make a quick pit stop before he went and finally dealt with the piece of shit who thought he could take from him without any consequences.

Arriving, he saw the lights already on inside the house. It was dark outside, and the curtains were drawn. Leaving his keys in the ignition, he took off into the house to the scent of something burning.

It was a complete contrast to being in O’Klaren’s house.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. It says to cook it for ten minutes. This is so wrong.”

He rounded the corner and found the woman who had completely turned his life upside down. She looked close to tears as she looked into a saucepan.

“What have you burned this time?” he asked.

She looked up. “Garlic. How can this be so difficult? It says to cook it for ten minutes.”

He walked into the kitchen glancing at the cookbook she’d borrowed from the library and laughed. “Have another look.”

She looked. “Look, ten minutes, it says it right there.”

“Does it?”

She looked again and her shoulders slumped. “Crap.”

“I’m not going to lie, it’s cute you thinking you cook garlic for ten minutes, but that’s the onion. Why haven’t you chopped the onion?”

“I don’t know, because I can’t cook and I’m a total loser.” She put her head in her hands. “I’m never going to be able to cook you a good meal.”