Chapter 8

Dahlia

I’m still in bed when someone starts pounding on the front door like they’re trying to break it down.

My phone says it’s 9:00 AM. I’ve been home less than twenty-four hours and apparently word has already spread.

“Dahlia Rose Miller, open this door right now!” A high pitched and familiar voice.“Open this door or I’m picking the lock!”

I drag myself out of bed, wincing as my ribs remind me they’re still healing. I pull on a sweatshirt and stumble downstairs.

The pounding continues.

“I’m coming, Jesus—”

I unlock the door and it flies open before I can even turn the handle.

“Oh my god, you’re actually here!” Sienna wraps her arms around me and squeezes. “I literally left a patient mid-cleaning to come see you.”

“You left a patient?” I pull back to look at her. She’s wearing scrubs under her jacket and her hair is pulled back in a messy bun.

“Mrs. Patterson. She’ll be fine. She was already numbed up anyway.” Sienna grabs my face and turns it side to side, examining me like I’m one of her dental patients. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks. Always could count on you for honesty.”

“What happened to your face? Is that a bruise?” Her eyes narrow. “Did he hit you? Because I swear to god I will drive to the city right now and—”

“Car accident. Nobody hit me.”

“You’re sure? Because you can tell me. I know people. People who can make him disappear—”

“I’m sure.”

She’s still holding my face and peering at me like I’m lying. Sienna’s been my best friend since third grade when she punched a kid for putting gum in my hair. She’s also the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.

“Now tell me everything. And I mean everything. Why are you here?”

“Can I at least make coffee first?”

“No. Talk now, caffeinate later.”

A car door slams outside and we both turn to see a beat-up Jeep Wrangler in the driveway. The driver’s door opens and Kai Rodriguez unfolds himself from the front seat.

He’s barely changed since high school. Same shaggy dark hair that’s perpetually sun-bleached. same easy smile, same board shorts and faded t-shirt that says “Salt Life” across the chest.

“Dahlia!” He jogs up the porch steps and pulls me into a hug that’s much gentler than Sienna’s assault. “Heard you were back. Thought you might need rescuing from this one.” He nods toward Sienna.

“Shut up, Rodriguez.” Sienna punches his arm. “I’ve been here for literally three minutes and at least I came to check on our friend instead of spending the morning catching waves like an overgrown teenager.”

“The waves were perfect this morning.” He looks at me. “You should come out tomorrow. When’s the last time you surfed?”

I try to remember. It’s been years. Since before Sebastian.

“I don’t think I remember how.”

“Bullshit. It’s like riding a bike. Well, a bike that’s trying to kill you. But still.” Kai leans against the porch railing. “Seriously though, how are you doing?”

The genuine concern in his voice does something to my chest. These two have known me since we were kids running through the vineyard and surfing at the beach. Before I became Mrs. Sebastian Hawthorne.

“I’m okay. Getting there anyway.”

“Your mom called us. She said you are getting a divorce.” Sienna’s never been one for subtlety. “Please tell me you have a team of lawyers bleeding him dry.”

“I didn’t take anything.”

“Dahlia. Sweetheart. Light of my life. Are you insane?”

“I don’t care about the money.”

“But you earned that money! You put up with his bullshit for three years!”

Kai holds up a hand. “Maybe let her breathe, Si.”

Sienna releases me but she’s still staring like I’ve grown a second head. “I don’t understand you right now. I really don’t.”

“I just wanted it to be over. I didn’t want to drag it out fighting over money and property and—” I stop and take a breath. “I just wanted to be free of him.”

They both go quiet.

“Okay,” Kai says finally. “But you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you or—”

“He didn’t hurt me. Not physically anyway.” I wrap my arms around myself. “Can we please talk about something else?”

Sienna and Kai exchange one of those looks that people who’ve known each other forever can have entire conversations with.

“You know what you need?” Sienna’s eyes light up. “A night out.”

“I don’t think—”

“Not a suggestion.”

“I have to check out the farm later. My mom wants me to—”

“Even more reason to blow off steam tonight.” Kai grins. “Come on. When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”

I try to remember but I come up blank.

“Where would we even go?”

“The Barrel Room!” Sienna practically bounces. “You know that mom’s new wine bar on Main Street? It’s gorgeous, they have live music on Saturdays and the best small plates—”

“My mom owns a wine bar?”

“Yeah, opened it like a year ago. You didn’t know?” Sienna’s face falls. “Oh. I guess you guys weren’t really talking…”

Another thing I missed. Another piece of my family’s life that I was too busy playing the perfect wife to notice.

“Eight o’clock. Wear something hot. We’re celebrating your freedom.”

“I don’t have anything—”

“Check your old closet. I bet you have stuff from before.” She’s already heading for the door.

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Nope!” She calls over her shoulder.

Kai gives me an apologetic shrug. “You know how she is. Easier to just go with it.”

“I remember.”

He pulls me into another quick hug. “It’s good to have you home. Really good.”

***

Later that night, Sienna pulls up in her BMW and whistles when I get in.

“Look at you! Sebastian is going to lose his mind when he sees what he’s missing.”

I’d dug through my old closet and found a black slip dress.

“Sebastian isn’t going to see anything. He’s three hours away in the city.”

“Social media exists, babe. Trust me, he’ll see.”

The Barrel Room is nothing like I expected. My mum really outdid herself with this place.

The music hits us as soon as we walk in. Kai is already at a corner table with a bottle of wine open in front of him.

“Finally,” he says, standing to hug us both. “I already started without you. Hope that’s okay.”

He pours and I take a sip.

“Your parent’s vineyard won the state competition last year,” Kai says. “This vintage specifically.”

Pride swells in my chest mixed with shame that I didn’t know.

“It’s amazing,” I say quietly.

“Everything here is amazing,” Sienna says. “The food, the wine, the vibe. Your mom really knows what she’s doing.”

We order small plates that keep arriving at our table. Burrata with fig jam. Prosciutto-wrapped dates. Truffle fries.

By the third glass I’m feeling warm and loose and like maybe Sienna was right about this.

“Okay,” Sienna says, leaning forward with that look in her eyes. “Tell us what happened. Why did you finally leave?”

I take a long drink. “He was cheating on me.”

Sienna’s glass stops halfway to her mouth.

“What?”

“With his ex. The one from before me. She came back from London and suddenly she’s running my project and she’s pregnant and he’s spending nights at the hospital with her—”

“Wait, she’s pregnant?” Kai’s jaw tightens. “With his baby?”

I drain my glass and reach for the bottle.

“I’m going to kill him,” Kai says flatly.

“You’ll have to get in line behind me,” Sienna mutters. She grabs my hand. “I’m so sorry. That’s so fucked up.”

“The fucked up part is I kind of saw it coming. But I kept making excuses. Kept thinking if I just tried harder or was better or more understanding—” I shake my head. “God, I was so pathetic.”

“You weren’t pathetic,” Kai says firmly. “You were in love.”

“Was I though? Or was I just in love with the idea of being in love?” I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter now. It’s over.”

Sienna raises her glass. “To new beginnings and leaving trash men where they belong. In the dumpster.”

We drink to that.

Around drink number four Sienna gets that look in her eye. The one that means she’s about to do something insane.

“You know what you should do?”

“I’m scared to ask.”

“Order some entertainment.” She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling. “There’s this service. They send male models to your table. Very tasteful. Very fun.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? Live a little!” She’s already on some website. “Look how hot they are. This one does fire dancing. This one is a professional salsa instructor—”

“Sienna, I am not ordering strippers to my mother’s wine bar.”

“They’re not strippers! They’re models. They just hang out and flirt and maybe dance a little.”

“Hard pass.”

“Come on,” Kai says. He’s grinning as well. “When’s the last time you did something just for the hell of it?”

I think about the black Amex Sebastian gave me for “household expenses”.

“Fine,” I hear myself say. “But I’m picking them.”

Sienna actually squeals then shoves her phone at me and I scroll through the options.

I don’t even read the descriptions. I just pick eight that look nothing like Sebastian.

Dark where he’s light. Casual where he’s polished. Smiling where he’s serious.

“Eight?” Sienna’s eyes are huge. “Oh my god.”

“Go big or go home, right?” I pull out the Amex and enter the card information.

The confirmation comes through immediately. Eight models. Two-hour booking. Arriving in thirty minutes.

I order another bottle of wine.

By the time they arrive I’m well past tipsy and heading toward reckless.

They’re exactly as advertised. Attractive, charming, professionally flirtatious. They take turns dancing with each of us, making conversation, keeping our glasses full.

It’s completely over the top and excessive and exactly what I needed.

I’m laughing at something one of them says when I feel that prickling awareness that someone is watching.

I turn toward the entrance.

Sebastian is standing in the doorway.

He’s still in his work clothes. And his face.

It contains the kind of fury that I’ve learned to avoid over our three years of marriage.

Our eyes meet across the crowded bar.

Everything else fades. The music. The laughter. The male model currently trying to refill my wine glass.

There’s only Sebastian. And me.

His gaze drops to the guys. To the empty wine bottles. To my flushed cheeks and the credit card statement that he’s undoubtedly already received a notification about.

His jaw clenches so hard I can see it from here.

I raise my wine glass in a mock toast as he starts walking toward our table.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​