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I exhale.

“Fine. A little.”

Her expression softens.

“I knew he’d stop eventually,” I say.

“Ross has a company to run. He has London, New York, Geneva, whatever else is demanding his attention. He isn’t going to spend the rest of his life calling a woman who keeps ignoring him.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I’m trying to.”

Erica picks up her water.

“Do you think he’ll come here?”

The question makes me look at her.

“California?”

“Yes.”

I shake my head.

“He could. Ross has enough money and resources to be anywhere he wants in a matter of hours. But I told him no. Eventually he’ll accept that.”

Erica studies me over the rim of her glass.

“And then?”

“And then he moves on.”

The words hurt more than they should. I force myself to continue.

“There are plenty of women who would happily make his life easier than I ever have.”

“That isn’t really the point.”

“I know.”

The boys come running into the kitchen before Erica can say anything else.

“Is lunch ready?” Miles asks.

“Yes,” Erica says. “And both of you need to wash your hands first.”

Miles starts toward the sink. Wells looks at me.

“Can we eat outside?”

I smile.

“Sure.”

They disappear toward the back of the house, and Erica starts carrying plates toward the patio.The interruption helps. For a little while, we eat with the boys and let the conversation move toward ordinary things. By the time Wells and Miles are finished, they have already started planning what they want to do with the rest of the afternoon.

After they run off again, Erica looks toward me.