When I don’t speak, Christian says, “You don’t like the wine? How about a little something else?”

When he pulls out a small cloth pouch from the kitchen drawer, I hold back a gasp. I recognize that little bag, pattered with vivid orange and yellow flowers. It had been his mother’s. It’s where she kept her “happy pills.”

“Where’d you get those?” I ask when he holds out his hand, palm open, to show off the loose pills.

“What? Mommy’s special candy?”

I freeze. “How did you—”

“Eli told me all about it. You think that kid doesn’t remember, but he does.”

“I never thought he didn’t remember,” I tell him.

Christian closes his fingers over the drugs and acts like he’s going to tip them back into the pouch. “Going once? Going twice …”

“Put them away.”

My fingertips press my forehead. I close my eyes. Am I swaying? It’s hard to tell. When I open them, the room isn’t spinning. Only I am.

Then he is kissing me, and my mouth is open for him, and his tongue is on mine, stealing away all my protests.

He’s breathing fast when we pull apart from each other. His lips are wet. He pushes hair away from my face to cup me on both sides of my jaw, holding me in place as though I’m trying to get away, even though I’m not.

“Do you still want what I have?” I murmur.

I know it’s not love. It’s never been love, at least not for him. But I still have a chance at getting him to do what I want.

“Maybe. Why?”

I smile. “Because I know a way we can both get a lot of money.”

“You’d never get away with it.” Christian has not said yes … but he hasn’t said no, either.

“This couch is not comfortable.” I shift on it, firm blue foam, and wish for the squishy brown plaid cushions on the couch he sold.

Next to me, Christian leans back and drains his glass. “Maybe not, but it’s clean and doesn’t have a nest of mice living in it. Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you.”

“I can’t even believe you’re talking about this,” he says with a shake of his head but a gleam in his gaze. “So much for you never asking me for anything. I just never thought it would be this.”

I ignore that last statement. “You’ve already wrecked this place. What’s a little hole in the roof going to set you back? Only some time and a little physical effort. It’s a lot of money. I could pay off all my debts, including the mortgage. You could pay off your school loans.”

“But why go through all of that?” Christian asks me. “Just leave him, Jewelann. Get alimony. A couple years of child support. I get that you want to keep the house for Eli’s sake, I mean, the kid’s got a complex about it.”

I sit up straight. “What do you mean?”