Before I could answer, the front door opened.
Elias walked in wearing the navy sweater I had given him last Christmas.
For one suspended second, we simply stared at each other.
He looked tired. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, his eyes red-rimmed. He seemed so convincingly wounded that my first instinct was to step toward him.
Then I remembered his voice above me in the hotel room.
Tonight I still have to pretend.
“Ella,” he breathed.
Nathan moved between us. “She’s not alone.”
Elias’s gaze flicked to him. “This is my home too.”
“No one said it wasn’t,” Nathan replied.
Elias ignored him and looked at me. “Where have you been?”
I folded a sweater and placed it in my suitcase. My hands were steadier than I felt.
“I needed space.”
“Space?” He laughed once, but it cracked. “You left me on our wedding night.”
“You noticed.”
