When my husband developed mind-reading

Picking it up felt like handling something rotten, but throwing it away just felt wasteful.

And wouldn't you know it? Right then, I got a front-row seat to Yara and Malcolm tangled all over each other.

Naturally? I wasn't about to let that slide without making a whole thing of it.

Malcolm showed up fast; the soft rumble of a car pulling up outside drifted through the living room.

He stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the space until they landed on me, and they lingered just a beat too long.

"Hello, Mrs. Dunn."

Malcolm greeted Olivia with a polite nod of his head.

Claire nodded back, just a small tilt. "Malcolm, have a seat." She gestured for the staff to bring in coffee and snacks.

Malcolm settled in beside his mom and asked, "What did you call me over for, Mom?"

"How dare you even ask that?" His mother's voice boiled over with exasperation, and she swatted his back hard. "Did you upset Jolie earlier today?"

Malcolm flicked a glance at my downcast face, searching for any hint of what I was feeling… and came up empty.

He wracked his brain, dead sure he hadn't done anything to piss me off. All he could do was shake his head. "I didn't…"

The words barely left his mouth before my thoughts roared back to what I'd been thinking back at the office:

[Didn't he do it? All men are liars. You can't believe a single word that comes out of their mouths—they're pros at deceiving people.]

[Does he really think he can deny he was holding Yara in his office five minutes ago? Or that she wasn't sobbing in his arms? How does he even have the balls to lie to my face when I'm standing right here as a witness?]

My face stayed perfectly calm, but inside my head, a hurricane of rage and hurt was spinning out of control.

Malcolm froze a little, his gaze pinning to my face.

Putting two and two together between the dark look on my face and how urgent his mom had been to get him over here, Malcolm rubbed his temples. His voice came out deep, strained as he tried to explain: "I told you, it's just a misunderstanding."

I kept my face blank as anything, but on the inside I was rolling my eyes so hard they almost got stuck:

[What kind of misunderstanding has an engaged man holding another woman who's already made it clear she wants him?]

At the same time, his mother frowned. "Malcolm, Jolie saw it with her own two eyes," she said firmly. "You need to tell Jolie exactly what's going on between you and that Yara girl."

Malcolm threw a heavy, somber glance my way where I sat next to Olivia.

I felt his eyes on me, and immediately put on my sweet, fragile little act.

[What are you staring at, you two-timing smooth talker? Trying to juggle both of us at the same time!]

Malcolm sighed. "Mom, nothing happened between me and Yara. She slipped and fell right into my arms by accident."

Again, I rolled my eyes internally:

[Really? Of every single place she could fall, it just had to be right into your arms? How convenient for you two.]

"Is that really all that happened?" Olivia asked, her tone thick with doubt.

Malcolm's eyes didn't leave my smooth, unblemished face. "Yes. That's all."

Claire nodded and turned to me for my take. "Jolie, does Malcolm's explanation satisfy you?"

I put on my best shy, hesitant act and glanced up through my lashes softy. "If it's just a misunderstanding, I trust Malcolm."

"I believe him. Yara fell into his arms by accident, and Malcolm was just being a gentleman catching her."

On the inside, I was cringing so hard at my own sickly sweet tone:

[Ugh. That was so nauseating I could throw up.]

Malcolm let out a deep sigh.

Claire was over the moon to have such an understanding future daughter-in-law. She patted my hand warmly and grinned.

"What do you think, Olivia?" Claire Salazar asked—even though I'd already forgiven Malcolm, she still wanted reassurance from her friend.

Olivia Dunn didn't think much of it. Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, it was no big deal.

"Malcolm, Jolie is such a wonderful girl. I like her more than I can say," Olivia said. "She's the only one I want as a daughter-in-law for this family. No one else will ever do!"

"You need to treat her right, you hear me? Can you promise me that?"

With a sigh, Malcolm nodded, giving in to his mother's demand.

With the silly little misunderstanding sorted out so easily, Claire was glowing. She waved a hand, giddy as she instructed the staff to prepare a dinner with spiced honey cake and pulled pork.

She warmly insisted Olivia and I stay for dinner.

"That's okay, Mrs. Salazar," I hurried to decline. "Earlier, Malcolm and I never got around to eating lunch." I lifted my gaze to Malcolm, letting my expression go soft and affectionate, a sharp contrast to his serious face. "I'd rather go out to eat with him instead."

Malcolm frowned, holding my gaze.

I smiled sweetly, my eyes crinkling like little crescent moons. "Isn't that right, Malcolm?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded silently.

"Oh, I get it," Claire chuckled. "I won't keep you two then. Olivia and I will just have dinner here—we won't intrude on your date night."

After we said our goodbyes, I was already in Malcolm's car, staring out the passenger window.

"Where do you want to eat?" Malcolm asked, turning the key in the ignition.

I thought it over for a second, then gave him an address.

It wasn't far from the Salazar place, right downtown, but with rush hour traffic, we couldn't go fast.

Malcolm drove one-handed, sneaking a quick look at me out of the corner of his eye.

As night fell, the city lights started flicking on one by one.

Neon signs along the street glowed and flickered, painting shifting shadows across my face that made me look almost dreamlike.

The car rolled steady, and a soft breeze blew in through the open window, lifting a strand of hair off my cheek and drifting it over my eyes for a second.

Malcolm snapped his attention back to the road and took a deep drag off the cigarette between his fingers.

He'd grown up with me, and I'd always been the gold standard of beauty to him—his perfect dream girl.

If only I hadn't spent those years living in Europe… and Yara, who looked so damn much like me…

Malcolm's brow furrowed as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

I felt what he was doing, frowned, and rolled my window all the way down.

I shifted a little, leaning half out to get a breath of air that wasn't thick with cigarette smoke.

[Seriously? Why do you have to smoke in a tiny closed car? Can't he ever think about anyone but himself?]

Malcolm froze mid-inhale, stuck between exhaling the smoke he'd already pulled in and holding it in his lungs.

[He's really over here smoking when his poor little girlfriend just got kicked out by her landlord and has nowhere to go. Shouldn't he be rushing over to help her right now?]

Malcolm's brain spun for a second, then he caught on who my "beloved" was talking about.

"Jolie…"

Right as he was about to ask me what I meant, a jolt of hot excitement shot through my chest:

[There she is! Finally found you! You're so hard to track down, Yara!]

My eyes lit up, locking dead on the forlorn figure outside the window.

Malcolm followed my gaze, and there on the sidewalk was Yara's thin, heartbroken silhouette.

She was dragging a suitcase, hefting a huge duffel bag, and wandering aimlessly down the street.

I reined in my excitement and snuck a quick glance at the driver's seat, racking my brain for how to nudge Malcolm into noticing her on his own.

[Stop the damn car and get her in already! What are you even waiting for?]

Before I could cook up a plan, the car slammed to a stop at the curb. Malcolm's gaze was already locked on Yara.