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nothing.
    â€œI’m not destitute, Jace. I thought it would help being with a friend. I see now I should have simply escaped to one of the Morelli properties where we could have remained unknown. And unjudged.
    â€œI’m not judging you.”
    She straightened her spine. “Yes, you are. Do you really think so little of me? Is that how you see me? A screw-up who needs to have her messes fixed?”
    â€œYou were stupid to marry him.” His hips came away from the counter as they faced off.
    â€œJust consider that a fix to the mess you left behind.”
    As the words echoed through the kitchen, they each stepped back. Anna’s heart thumped heavily. She’d crossed a line, one they’d tacitly agreed never to speak of again. She couldn’t look in his eyes. She was too ashamed.
    â€œYes, Anna,” he murmured, “you cleaned up that mess. I left you to fix it and you did.”
    Was that hurt in his voice? Or bitterness? She couldn’t tell. She only knew the pain hadn’t diminished in all the years that had passed. “I screwed up with Stefano,” she admitted. Perhaps if she did that they could move past the hurtful things they had—and hadn’t—just said. “I wasn’t home enough, I know that now. I was selfish, and it kills me inside to admit it. If only I’d been there. It wouldn’t have happened if I’d been…present in my marriage.”
    â€œWhat could you have done? You couldn’t have prevented his accident.”
    â€œI could have prevented a lot of things.”
    Guilt fell heavy on her shoulders as the words hung in the air. She’d taken for granted everything would work out as it was supposed to. She’d turned a blind eye to the signs and had pretended to have the perfect life. She didn’t like what that said about her. And when she’d finally gotten up the courage to do something about it, the results had been disastrous. She should have paid more attention to her marriage, rather than taking it for granted.

    â€œAnna…” Jace opened his mouth to somehow answer her, but crying filtered down the stairs and he turned his head to the sound.
    â€œI need to get the children,” she murmured, sliding out of the kitchen and leaving him there alone.
    She’d completely misread what he’d meant, he realized, pushing his fingers through his hair. He shouldn’t have let her provoke him into saying things best left unsaid. She might have made the bad choices, but he’d forced her into them. Even though what she’d done had shocked him, he still found he couldn’t blame her for it. What choice had he left her? And yes, he blamed her, but not the way she thought.
    She wasn’t responsible for Stefano’s death, and this wasn’t a mess of her making to clean up. Maybe Jace had made himself scarce over the years, but each time they’d crossed paths it had infuriated him to see the pompous Stefano dampen down any spark Anna had until she barely resembled the carefree woman he remembered. But she shouldn’t have married Stefano in the first place. Jace had wanted so much more for her, and instead she’d let herself be swept away by a handsome face and a charming manner. All the bastard had done was to break her heart and leave her alone. It was so obvious when he looked in her eyes that she was hurting. If the man were still alive, Jace would happily make his life a living hell for what he’d done to Anna.
    He’d do anything to take that pain away. It was why he’d let her stay. To prove to her that their friendship still meant something. To give her a safe place to heal. But it wasn’t working out that way and he knew why.
    They had too much history. A history that made nothing plain and simple. He set his jaw, took out a head of lettuce, and savagely ripped it into pieces.

Chapter Three
    Anna came back to the kitchen with Matteo holding her