2

Rachael pov

“John, it’s going to take some time, but I have it under control.”

“Under control? Rach, you haven’t signed a new book contract since last year!” John yelled through the speaker. “I let it slide at first because you were settling a messy divorce, but come on, the publishing house wants something new and fresh! Your debut novel hit the bestseller list, but your fans are dying for a sequel!”

Half-distracted, I leaned over my half-filled shopping cart, watching Leah sprint down the toy aisle in search of the specific doll I’d promised her if she aced her spelling test.

I reached down into a display shelf, snatched a tiny set of doll wardrobe accessories, and shoved it under a pile of fresh fruit in my cart. I knew she was supposed to be at her father’s house this weekend. Buying extra toys was my petty way of proving to myself that even when I messed up, I was still the better parent than that arrogant asshole.

“You’re doing that thing again,” John groaned.

I wedged the phone between my cheek and shoulder as I rearranged the apples to cover the toy box. “What thing?”

“Saying nothing and making me think you’re listening when you’re actually completely ignoring me!”

“John, it’s already sad enough that my manager is my best friend too, I can’t have you reading me like an open book.”

“Rachael,” his voice dropped to a deadly serious tone. “The publishing board gave me a hard deadline today.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Don’t get me wrong, they love your writing, but you have to understand they’ve reached their limit.”

I let out a long sigh, checking the aisle for Leah. I saw her running back toward me, her cheeks flushed as she proudly waved a brightly colored doll box. My expression instantly softened.

“How long do I have?”

“Until the end of the year.”

“Shit, John! Couldn’t you have put in a good word for me or something?” Who am I kidding, I thought. I know he tried. The modest percentage he made off my royalties funded his entire lifestyle. “That’s only five months from now!”

I heard him exhale softly through the receiver. “I’ll try to stall them, but you need to pick up that damn laptop and start writing.”

“Mommy, look! They got a new one with a huge Afro!” Leah beamed, waving the box in my face. “Her name is going to be Lana!”

“I’ll call you back, John,” I muttered, hanging up and crouching down to take the box from her. My mouth opened in genuine surprise. The doll was gorgeous, with warm olive skin and a crown of soft, dark curls. “Oh, Lana is beautiful, sweetie.”

“Mommy, can I have a quarter? There’s a coin ride in the children's section, and I want to play before we go.”

I reached into my bag, pulling out a coin. “Please don’t wander off, Leah. I still have a few more things to pick up for dinner.”

Not just dinner, I had an entire long weekend of meals to cook now that she was staying with me. Don’t get me wrong, I loved cooking for Leah, but Gabriel had always been the chef in our marriage. I used to just sit on the kitchen counter, sipping wine and rambling about my book plots before I even typed a single word.

My chest tightened at the memory, but I forced a smile as I handed Leah the coin and watched her skip off toward the front of the store.

As I pushed my cart down the baking aisle, an elderly woman holding the hand of a little girl about Leah’s age approached me.

“Hello, dear,” she smiled warmly, holding out her phone. “Could you please take a quick picture of my granddaughter and me? It’s been so long since we’ve had a nice one together.”

“Of course- ” I reached out to take the phone, but before my fingers could touch it, a shadow fell over us from behind.

The heavy scent of cologne and shaving cream was familiar seconds before a large hand reached over my shoulder and casually plucked the phone right out of the air.

“Allow me.”

Gabe.

I held back a glare, stepping out of the frame. The elderly woman blinked, pulling her granddaughter closer as Gabe stepped back, expertly angling the phone camera.

I stopped looking at the woman and stared straight at him.

It wasn't like It’s been a long time since I’d seen him last. We met up almost every Friday for the custody handoff, though most times he’d send his personal driver to collect her while he checked in on FaceTime. I made a strict habit of never looking at him for too long, pretending I didn't care what- or who- he was doing.

But right now, I didn't have a choice.

He was wearing a casual cream Henley shirt that stretched tight over his broad chest, tailored dark trousers, and those leather loafers I used to tease him looked like something Elijah Mikaelson would wear. His dark hair was slightly messy, falling over his forehead in a way that made him look infuriatingly handsome.

“There you go,” Gabe said smoothly, handing the phone back to the woman with a million-dollar smile.

“Oh, thank you so much!” the woman gushed, looking at the screen.

“My absolute pleasure. Is this pretty bundle of sunshine your daughter?”

I physically held back a snort.

The woman giggled, practically blushing. “Oh, goodness, no! She’s my granddaughter.”

Gabe feigned dramatic shock. “Really now? I never would have guessed.”

The woman giggled again, completely forgetting I was standing right there. I folded my arms over my chest, feeling entirely discarded.

“Mister, you’re so handsome,” the little girl chirped in a high-pitched voice.

“I know,” Gabe replied in that deep, charming rumble that used to make my knees go weak.

I rolled my eyes so far back into my head I thought they might get stuck.

The woman and child finally walked away. The moment they were out of earshot, the warm, charming mask melted off Gabe’s face. He turned to me, a familiar, arrogant sneer on his lips as his dark gaze dragged slowly from my shopping cart up to my face.

“Am I supposed to believe that Gabriel Kayes came to a public supermarket just to do some grocery shopping?” I gestured to the only thing he was holding- his phone.

“You’ve been deliberately ignoring my calls all afternoon,” he said, his tone dropping.

“Have I?” I feigned innocence, turning back to my cart and pretending to look deeply interested in a box of organic cereal.

I felt him step closer, his heavy presence hovering right behind my shoulder. “Are you mad at me, Rachael?”

My fingers dug into the metal handle of the cart. I refused to turn around, even though I knew he was watching my every move.

“Now why on earth would I think you’re important enough for me to be mad at you?”

“Because I was supposed to have Leah today,” he growled softly. “I sat at the park for an hour dialing your cell. If you wanted her to stay at your place for the weekend, you could have just said so instead of ghosting me.”

My stomach twisted from guilt. I should have called him. Why hadn't I? I berated myself silently. Why was I mad at him?

...Well, besides the obvious.

“So tell me,” he pressed.

“Tell you what?”

Gabe let out a low sigh. In one smooth, commanding movement, he took two steps forward, rounding the front of my cart and stopping dead in front of me, blocking my path entirely. He loomed over me, using every inch of his towering height to trap me in place.

I crossed my arms over the handle of the cart, throwing my chin up in pure defiance.

“Rach,” he murmured.

“Gabriel.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Then, a slow, dangerous flash of amusement glinted in his blue eyes.

“Leah told you about Amanda,” he stated, leaning in just an inch closer. “Didn’t she?”