Fall by Winter

I hoped that didn’t sound bitter. I didn’t have an ounce of bitterness in me; it was just complicated.

“That depends,” Sharon said. “Are you writing the dating profile for them or yourself?”

I frowned.

Her gaze softened, and she patted my hand on the table. “You’re always talking about how much baggage you have, Lissa, and I just don’t see it. William isn’t part of your personal life that way anymore. He’s your ex-husband. And look out at that dance floor. The men are a bunch of Williams, and the women have a William stashed somewhere.”

“I hope for their sake not all of them are exactly like William.” I widened my eyes.

Sharon laughed.

I knew she was right, though. It was my hang-up. I was the one who included William in my complicated mess. In a dating profile, I wasn’t supposed to mention him at all. He was just the ex. Except, he wasn’t.

My husband leaving me for another man had knocked me down quite a bit, even though I actually preferred it having played out that way today. There would be no other woman to compete with for my children’s affection. Maybe it was catty to think that way, but only one woman was allowed to screw up my kids, and it was me.

“I’ll be honest,” I said, hesitating. Hesitating because I hadn’t been this forthcoming about my feelings for William to anyone. “I’m sort of in love with the friendship he and I have established. It’s the first time in over a decade we can love each other in a healthy way. I’m not even attracted to him anymore, but I adore how we are handling this with the children. And…it’s made me protective. After hurting each other for so many years, we can finally heal, and I don’t want to lose that.”

“Who says you have to, hon?” Sharon asked curiously. “For the record, I understand you. I knew him when he was happy, and I knew him when he wasn’t. I saw what you and your family went through.” Plus, I’d confided in her a lot over the years. “I think it’s amazing that you’ve found your way with William—and I’m certain it’s made everything easier for Brady and Aurora—but there are men out there who won’t give a shit that you’re friends with your ex. Meet one of those.”

If only it were that easy. Unbeknownst to her, I actually had tried Tinder once. I’d only wanted to check it out, and I hadn’t made it very far. Not a single date. Because after chatting to a few men, it was pretty clear that they either didn’t understand why my ex had to be a significant part of my life, or their interest had simply died out. And by died out, I meant two men had just not responded further.

It’d embarrassed me.

“It doesn’t matter,” I settled for saying. “I’m not interested in meeting anyone. I’m perfectly content with my life as it is.”

I didn’t feel the need to “play the field” either. I’d been a screw-up in high school and made enough mistakes. A scholarship had saved my ass, and then I’d met William shortly after starting college. He was a few years older, and he’d been born responsible and mature. My parents had been over the moon. They hadn’t even batted an eyelash when I’d told them I was pregnant with Brady the year after I got my degree. They trusted William to keep me mellow, and William had always been a man with a plan.

“You’re not even interested in the eye candy looking at you over there?” Sharon pointed toward the bar. “Mother of God, what a specimen.”

I cocked my head and followed her gaze, wondering who—holy shit.

“Mason!” I exclaimed. It was Mason. Mason was in town. “That’s William’s older brother,” I said, getting up from my seat. “I’ll be right back.”

“That’s Mason?” Sharon asked me incredulously. “How the fuck have you not jumped him yet? Girl, you picked the wrong brother. No offense.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing and shook my head instead. She was incorrigible.

“I’ll be right back,” I repeated and left her at the table. She wouldn’t understand. Mason was gorgeous, yes—out of this world, really—but he was the type of man you only watched from afar. By day, he rocked Armani suits and worked in finance. On the weekends, he wore ratty jeans and flannel as he built furniture in his garage. A walking contradiction was what he was. As humble as he was cocky. Quiet and observant, yet unafraid to raise hell and be the center of attention. Add a killer smile, charisma that went on for days, and eyes that could strip you of your defenses in a second. Unlike William’s slate-colored eyes, Mason’s carried a pinch of green.

He flashed me one of his charming smirks as I approached.