Page 170 of What Started In Deception

“I do know. I just wanted to make sure you did, too.”

She closed her laptop with a snap. “I’m painfully aware of how I feel about him.”

Mac sighed. “Well, I’m still holding out hope for the two of you because you deserve nothing but happiness.”

“Thank you.”

“Oops. I can hear Maverick crying downstairs. He’s looking for his dinner. Since I’m his twenty-four-hour snack bar and I don’t want my mom to give him a bottle, I should go.”

Lydia grinned. “Call whenever you want.”

“You, too.”

“Okay. I love you, honey.”

“I love you, too.”

She hung up, exhaling a long sigh. Things seemed a little better between Will and Mac, which was amazing, but life in general still felt messy, which she hated. Moving through her days with order and routine was always her preference and something she desperately wanted back.

She glanced toward Ty’s box again, ready to get on with one of her most important to-dos that she kept putting off, knowing that letting go was a crucial step in moving forward.

Getting up and grabbing his stuff, she headed for her SUV, making the ten-minute drive to his fake condo, taking out the key that he’d given her several weeks ago.

She hesitated, then opened the door, huffing out a humorless laugh as she breathed in the scent of his damn aftershave. But she stopped as she walked up the steps to the open-concept space, realizing that the furniture and accents that had made everything so cozy were gone.

There was nothing left. It was as if Ty had never been there—as if the time that they’d shared together in his “home” had never happened at all.

It should have made things easier somehow—the reminder that all of it had been pretend—but she sat down on the step she stood on and gave in to her next round of tears.

Ty walked through his front door after one hell of a long day, toeing off his shoes in the entryway. He rolled his tense shoulders as he headed for the kitchen, tossing his suit jacket onto the couch before he reached into the fridge for a beer.

Popping the top off a Corona, he took a deep drink, having no desire to head back to the office after a quick meal and a shower like he’d done for years.

He’d been back on his squad for the last five days, trying to find his rhythm again, but sitting at his desk, comparing patterns and scrutinizing the security footage of his latest bank robbery suspect felt empty somehow—like something vital was missing.

On Monday, he’d completed his debrief for the Monroe case and filled out the accompanying stack of paperwork to officially close things up. He’d gotten a couple of pats on the back for a job well done, but there was also plenty of suspicion about the timing of the Richard Russo and Michael Giordano arrests by the Boston branch of the DEA instead of the FBI-led task force.

He’d been way out of line when he shared his information with Mason. He’d risked his career and his reputation as a solid agent, but no one would ever be able to convince him that what he’d done was wrong.

Moving to his bedroom, he set his beer on the dresser and tugged at his tie, sighing as he stared at the travel-size bottle of Lydia’s shampoo that he’d found in his shower when he got home on Sunday afternoon.

He’d been stupid enough to pick it up and smell it, which had been pure torture, but missing everything about Lydia was turning out to be an agony that he hadn’t seen coming.

Sighing again, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, staring at the last text that she’d sent him—like he’d done dozens of times over the last few days.

Let’s leave things the way that we left them. We can always say that we knew each other one summer.

He wanted to leave it. He wanted to forget, but he pressed on his camera roll, scrolling through the pictures he hadn’t been able to delete, studying the snapshots of a blink in time that had been the very best moments of his life.

Before he could stop himself, he pressed on the video of Lydia lighting her new grill for the first time and couldn’t help but grin as he listened to himself teasing her—as they both laughed while he’d recorded the entire event. She was so gorgeous and sweet, and he’d been happy and relaxed.

He startled when his phone started to ring in his hand, sighing as he realized that it was his mom. Every ounce of him wanted to avoid her call, but it was better to get this over with. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. Are you still in Massachusetts?”

“No.”

“Is Lydia with you right now?”