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“He called you his wife.”

My heart lurches. What?

“Why? What did he say?”

“He said he thought Stewart was sleeping with his wife, and I told him it was me.”

“Blake!”

“I couldn’t let Stewart take the blame. But that’s not why I hit him.”

“Then why?”

“He has no right calling you his.”

His fingers interlace with mine and he squeezes.

“I know he has every right to be mad at me for sleeping with you. If he’d just called me a bad friend, I’d have agreed with him. I’d have let him punch me. But calling you his wife after what he did to you…”

He shakes his head, and his hands tighten almost painfully. He closes his eyes like he’s trying to control his emotions, while my own feel like they’re going up my larynx to strangle me.

“I’m not his,” I say, finding my voice. “No matter what he says.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, quietly, like he doesn’t really want to.

“One hundred percent. You were right. When I met him in Stewart’s office, I was a different person. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel trapped anymore, I really felt free of him. He lost the power he had over me. That’s probably why he guessed that I’d slept with someone else.”

I thought my words would calm him, but he’s looking more troubled than ever.

He grabs my waist and pulls me up to sit on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.”

“About me?” I ask anxiously.

“About Luke’s wedding.” He drops his head down on my neck. “I’m so sorry, Ames.”

My heart tightens as a memory that was long lost resurfaces.

It was Luke and Madison’s wedding, and Blake and I were dancing to a slow song.

Blake’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his chest. My nose brushed against his neck and I breathed in his scent, a mixture of cologne and… Blake. And my body lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Amelia is a pretty name,” Blake said.

I laughed. It was such an obvious line. “Thanks. But you can call me Ames.”

“Ames,” he whispered in my ear.

And a shiver passed through me, and I knew he felt it too. And my belly fluttered with excitement, because I knew something was happening between us.

He called me Ames for the rest of the night. And then we went outside. And for a while, we talked with that same excitement, that same deep knowledge that we were both interested. And then it changed. He closed up. He started telling me about his amazing friend Ethan. And he never called me Ames again. And for a while, when I first started dating Ethan, I thought I’d imagined that moment we’d shared. I thought I’d read the situation all wrong. And eventually, I completely forgot about it.

“Why are you sorry, Blake?” I ask, but I feel like my voice is coming from outside of my body because my brain is busy connecting that memory with what Avery told me she’d always suspected.

I saw the way he looked at you.

“When I introduced you to Ethan, I really thought he would be good for you. I hate to think that I was responsible for you being in a marriage that made you feel trapped.”