Am I ready for a date?

No.

Not even close.

I don’t think I’m mentally prepared for anything past a fun night of flirting, which is all I’ve ever done with him.

My phone dings, and I pick it up so fast I nearly knock over my oats.

I open the app and click on his message.

Ryot.Bisley.Balls: The whole boring in bed thing.

DrinkWithMe: Oh, well, is it not true?

He types right away.

Ryot.Bisley.Balls: No. Boring is not how I would describe it. More like . . . cries when he comes.

I nearly spit out my mouthful as I laugh so loud that Nichole calls from her bedroom. “Not ready for dating, my ass.”

“Shut up, Nichole,” I call out.

Chapter Seven

MYLA

Present day . . .

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nichole asks as she hands me the last of the food from the kitchen fridge. Am I sure? No, not at all. But I don’t know what else to do.

“Last night wasn’t okay,” I answer as I place the apples in the fruit bin. “I can’t move out as I have nowhere to go yet, but I can draw a line in the sand, so to speak, to set stronger boundaries inside this house.”

Nichole takes a seat on the stairs that lead from the garage to the kitchen. “Okay. I get that. What did he do? I know you were a mess, but a silent one, and that worried me.”

It worried me too. I cried myself to sleep. Again.

Last night got out of hand. He used one of the best parts of our marriage as a weapon. He used our sex life to manipulate me. To control and seduce me. And if I gave in to him, if I fell back into our physical relationship, I’d probably feel demeaned. That would destroy something inside me and right now I feel too fragile. I’ve had my share of feeling degraded.

I can’t go back there.

Not just for me.

But for him as well. I know Ryot is a better man than he is acting now, so I can’t allow him to continue down this road.

“Last night . . . he pushed me too far. He knows my weakness. He knows that it’s impossible for me to resist him, and he used that to his advantage.”

“Probably because he still loves you and is mad about what’s happening. Anger and love make you do stupid stuff, you know?” Yeah, I can attest to that.

“So because he loves me and is angry about the divorce, that should excuse his behavior? That should excuse the way he’s treated me the past few months?”

“Nooooo,” Nichole drags out. “But how is putting up rules in the house for him to follow going to make it better for the two of you? Taking the car away, moving the food to your own personal fridge? Do you think this will help?”