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plastering a huge fake smile on her face. “It’s nice to see you again. Take care.” Rot in hell, bastard!
    She’d turned to walk away from him when Steven grabbed her arm with a rigid expression. “I hadn’t heard you were dating.” Glancing around the busy pub, he must’ve noticed Cora on the other side of the bar, because his jaw clenched. “Who is it?”
    “No one you know.”
    His gaze lingered on Cora and burned wicked before it returned to Presley. “Is it someone Cora knows?”
    “He’s a friend of hers.” She didn’t like the dark undertone in his eyes. Her life was none of his damned business. “Why do you care?”
    Steven hesitated, releasing her arm. “Don’t be stupid. You thought I wouldn’t?” At her pause, his eyes lowered into slits. “Presley, of course I care about you. We spent eight years together. All right, I fucked up—”
    “No, you didn’t fuck up. ” The memory of a late-night conversation when guilt got the better of him churned in her stomach. Maybe he felt guilty because she’d packed up her life and left her family behind, but whatever the reasons, he had shattered the happy image she thought they shared. “You fucked another woman.”
    She should’ve seen the signs, considering it took him so long to commit to her. Perhaps that’s why he’d put a ring on her finger before he told her. Maybe he’d thought it would make her stay. But what was done was done. She was finished with Steven the night he told her he had cheated. “Really, it’s fine. I’m doing okay, and I don’t want to talk about this.”
    His face turned a deep shade of red, his voice lowering to a scary, sharp tone. “Presley.”
    “Is there a problem here?”
    Presley jerked her head in front of her, finding the bartender glaring at Steven. “No problem. I was just leaving.” Steven had no right to ask about her life, but she didn’t want to cause a scene.
    For the few weeks after their breakup, she’d despised him with every fiber of her body. During the second month, after hearing him apologize a gazillion times and try to talk it out, she became confused. Ultimately, she realized his betrayal had crushed her, and he couldn’t ever take back what he’d done. Now she wanted him to go away and leave her the hell alone. She simply wanted to forget him and the life they once had.
    Besides, she couldn’t hate him anymore. If it hadn’t been for Steven, she never would’ve had the strength to join a BDSM dungeon. She had lived life as a straight arrow—always doing the right thing—and where did that get her? Miserable.
    Once she accepted the finality of their relationship, she spiraled into an emotional slump, and Cora’s offer for a new exciting life was the perfect thing to get her out of it. What better way to get over her old life than creating a new—completely opposite—life.
    “Listen, I’m glad you’re doing well,” she told Steven, noticing an odd concern in his eyes that she didn’t understand. “Honestly, I am. But like I’ve already told you, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Goodbye, Steven.”
    Without waiting for a response, she hurried to the table on the other side of the pub, where Cora was giving her the stink-eye. Dropping down in her seat across from Cora, she placed the colas on the table that she got since their waiter was busy. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
    “Why didn’t you punch him in the junk?” Cora implored.
    Presley laughed. “Why would I?”
    “Hmmm . . . let’s see.” Cora tapped her lip, her blue eyes narrowed. “Maybe because you moved to Vegas for that prick, he cheated on you, and he deserves a good smack in the face. Seriously, Presley, you are way too nice.”
    “I told him I didn’t want to talk about things.” She lowered her voice so no one else in the bar overheard, angling the straw toward her and taking a sip of her cola. “Besides, you know as well as I do that he’ll be at places like this.”