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She chuckles. “It rarely is. You’re not alone there.” Only kindness, maybe even affection, colors her tone.

Don’t I know it.

“What do you do?” she asks.

Is she trying to make polite conversation? Or does she actually care about the answer? Why?

“I’m a physical therapist.” Or, I was. Now I post videos of makeup looks online full-time.

“Oh.” She raises an eyebrow. “Interesting field.”

“It is, yes. I like helping people.” I hesitate, not sure why I’m going to ask this. “Gray said you wanted to go to medical school?”

A sad sigh passes her lips. “I did, yes. I’m sure he still thinks it’s his fault I didn’t go.”

“What do you do now?” If she can be nosy, I can too.

“I’m a dental hygienist. My husband and I have a small practice.”

“Oh, that must be nice to work together.”

“It has its moments.” She pats my shoulder. “Feel better?”

I concentrate for a moment. “Yes, I think I do.”

“Good. It was nice to meet you, Serena.” She turns toward the stalls.

Did she come in here specifically for me? Or did she happen to run into me? The answer doesn’t matter, I suppose.

I wash my hands again, replaying the odd conversation over in my head. Why is it so odd? Did I expect her to come at me flying squirrel style, yanking on my hair and laying claim to Grayson? Why would she? Supposedly she’s happily married. Maybe she really does care about Gray and wants him to be happy too. Not every woman in the world is a psycho ready to throw down for a man.

Gray meets me outside. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I glance over my shoulder. “Rose, uh, helped me out.”

“I saw her go in.”

We’re quiet while we walk out to the parking lot.

“Do you want me to bring the truck and pick you up?” Gray asks.

“No, the air feels good. I want to stretch my legs a little before we get on the road.”

Inside the truck, Gray turns and faces me, taking my hand in his. “You seem troubled. Did Rose say something to you?”

I don’t detect anything but concern for me in his question. “Just small talk. She noticed I’m pregnant. Asked how long we’d been together.”

“What? Why?”

I duck my head. Should I bother telling him?

There’s no point in keeping secrets. He’s not going to leave me for his ex-wife. I know that. “I think she wanted to know if you’re happy.”

He sits there staring at me.

Fear tightens my stomach. “You are happy, Gray, right? I know this isn’t what you planned—”

“I said goodbye to the life I’d planned a long time ago, buttercup.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Happy doesn’t scratch the surface of how I feel. I’m looking forward to our future together, not worrying about the past.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Grinder

“Just a few more months of this,” I mutter to myself as I head to my appointment with my parole officer. At least I ain’t worried about dealing with Grillo ever again.

That thought infuses some pep into my steps.

“Mr. Lock, good morning,” Ms. Lewis greets me, even friendlier than usual.

“Morning.”

We get the humiliation part of our visit out of the way first. Drug test. When we’re finally seated in her office, I roll up my sleeve. “Ah, Mr. Grillo had mentioned I’m supposed mention any new ink.”

Her eyebrows lift. Yeah, lady, I feel like a brownnoser too. Must be all the guilt, since I happen to know she’s getting stuck with Grillo’s caseload—permanently.

“Yes. Thank you for being so up front.” She slides open a drawer and pulls out an instant camera.

“Finally, technology I’m familiar with,” I joke, nodding at the camera.

She snorts. “Budget cuts don’t care about technology.” She takes the picture and returns to her desk. “How’s work?”

“Good. I was thinking about getting back into welding, though.”

“I think that’s a great idea. I can give you information about a couple of programs if you want to get re-certified.”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

“To be honest, Mr. Lock, I almost feel like these appointments are only holding you back.”

You and me both.

“I’m going to recommend that you’re released from parole early. That way you’re free to move about, look for a better job, do what you need to do.”

Is this real? It almost seems like too much to hope for. If I seem too eager, will she deny me? “I would really appreciate that.”

“All right. It may take a while, so we’ll schedule another appointment, just in case. You should get a letter in the mail, though.”

“Thank you.”

“One more thing.”

I knew this was too good to be true.

“Would you have any interest in maybe mentoring other parolees? I think you could provide a good example to them.”

You have no idea how wrong you are.

“Would I be allowed to?”

“If it’s through a program, yes. It wouldn’t be an issue.”

“What would I do?”


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