The phone jolted Julian out of his thoughts.
He glanced at the screen, then pressed it to his ear. “Why aren’t you asleep? It’s the middle of the night.”
Mitch’s laugh was low, teasing. “You’re awake too, aren’t you?”
Julian sighed. “What do you want?”
“What, can’t a friend call just to talk?”
Julian checked the glowing numbers on the clock. “You call me just to chat at three in the morning? Are you out of your mind?”
He was already in a bad mood, patience worn razor-thin. He moved to end the call, but Mitch’s tone changed.
“Your ex-wife fell asleep. Come pick her up.”
Julian stopped cold. Smoke curled from his cigarette, shadows dancing over his sharp features. For a split second, his entire mood shifted. “She’s sleeping at your place?”
Mitch chuckled softly. “I thought you’d forgotten about her. Honestly, I figured your first question would be ‘which ex-wife?’”
“I saw her tonight,” Julian said quietly.
“So you do still care.” There was a hint of surprise, maybe amusement, in Mitch’s voice.
Julian could feel how tense his own hand had become, fingers pressing the cigarette a little too tightly.
“She’s passed out at your place. How could I not care at least a little?”
Mitch’s response was casual, almost dismissive. “If you say so.”
Julian waited, expecting an explanation. None came.
What was Madeline even doing spending the night at Mitch’s? He didn’t ask. Mitch didn’t offer. The silence stretched out until Julian finally caved.
“Where are they?”
“I’m working on it. Not exactly sure yet.”
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