Gael decided to bring Trigger with them when he drove Angela to the cafe where she met with McHandsy. The two were now seated at a table by the window—as per Gael's choice so that he could "watch" over her.

Andrew McHandsy was a total fucking gentleman, and he couldn't keep his hands to himself. The bastard kissed her cheek, placed his hand on the small of her back, and even pulled out a chair for her. Gael rolled his eyes from all the gestures McHandsy did for his girlfriend. He hadn't taken his eyes off of them since they arrived.

Allowing Angela to meet her ex was already a stretch for him. The other night, he was feeling magnanimous and thought maybe that was the best move, so he told her she could meet Andrew. The next day, he sort of regretted saying that and wanted to take it back and hoped that Angela hadn't heard him.

They didn't talk about it, nor did Angela say she heard him that night. But after the phone call earlier and learning that Angela and McHandsy didn't "exactly break up", what was he supposed to do?

McHandsy, the poor bastard, didn't get his proper closure.

Gael felt a bit bad for him—just a tiny one—the feeling was like the tip of his nail.

Also, if they didn't "exactly break up", what did it mean for Gael and Angela? Was Gael—and possibly the other men after McHandsy—all side chicks? Hilarious.

When the phone call ended earlier, Gael waited for her to explain herself, but she looked like she was caught stealing bread after starving for a day. He decided to wait until tonight—until after her meet-up with McHandsy before asking her for clarification.

At first, Gael brought Trigger with them so that someone would stop him if he felt the urge to barge in there and interfere between Angela and McHandsy—maybe even stop him from hauling McHandsy out and throwing him to the street.

However, Trigger had been goading on him since they arrived, feeding his jealousy with more fire. Perhaps Gael needed someone else to stop him from hauling Trigger out of the car and throwing him to the street.

~"Ooh, the boy's got charm, Boss. They look great together."

~"Look at him, Boss. He's smiling at her like he's smiling at his meal."

~"Check that out, Boss. McCarthy's leg is inching towards Angela's."

~"You want me to kill him?" Trigger asked while casually playing with an ancient coin with his fingers. "I can sneak in his place tonight and do it while he's asleep—or while he's awake. Whatever you prefer, Boss. I have a new knife I want to test out."

"You wanna die, Trigger?" Gael gave the younger man an eye before shifting his gaze back to Angela and McHandsy. "Shut up before I test out your new knife on you."

Trigger clamped his mouth shut.

Angela and McHandsy were still talking. Why the hell did they take so long? What were they talking about? How hard could it be to tell him, 'Yeah, I don't like you anymore. Move on and have a nice life.'?

McHandsy smiled. And she smiled too—a wide one.

Ah. Fuck. 'What's making you smile, Love?'

Gael muttered some curses under his breath, causing Trigger to laugh at him for being 'pussy whipped' and seemingly enjoying Gael's sour mood. Of course, he smacked Trigger at the back of his head.

Even though Gael was Trigger's superior, the two of them went way back and trained together. They were family first before Trigger answered to him.

Gael had the car parked across the cafe, and from where he sat, he could clearly see Angela. She shifted in her seat, a small crease forming between her brows before she composed herself. Seeing this made him smirk. His Angel was still sore from how he fucked her an hour before they came here. Good.

He whipped out his phone and shot her a text.

[ Gael: Still sore, baby? I'll draw you a bath later. After I eat you up, of course. ]

Angela glanced down at her phone, and her brows knitted as she looked out the window. She wouldn't be able to see the inside of the Escalade because of the tinted windows, but she glared at Gael, knowing that he'd be able to see her from there.

A smile flitted across his face, feeling satisfied that even though she was sitting with another man at the table, she could still feel him inside her—as she should.

***

Angela was annoyed at Gael. When they went home to his apartment after going to the hospital, she took a quick shower and browsed for clothes in the closet. He came in, made her bend over the island counter, and took her from behind.

It was rough.

It was viciously delicious.

She forgot her name for a while.

She knew what he was doing—marking his territory before she met Andy. And she let him.

However, Angela was now suffering the after-effects of that sensual act because she couldn't sit still without feeling the sting. She was freakin' sore! And damn it, she could still feel him—as if his cock was still inside her.

Gael did this on purpose. And she didn't know whether to love him more or hate him for it. After all, she loved it.

"You sure you don't want to eat?" Andy asked when the server left after setting their drinks on the table.

Angela settled for an iced cappuccino while he ordered an espresso like he always did. Some things just never change.

She smiled. "No, I'm okay. How's your father?"

"He's doing great… Wants to retire soon, so he's been tossing more responsibilities my way." He shook his head. "What about you? What do you do now that you're no longer working for your dad?"

Angela took a long sip of her drink. She trusted Andy, but she liked the fact that the only man who knew about her secret life was Gael, apart from her brother. So instead, she said, "Soul searching…"

Andy pulled on a smile. "Is that why you're here in New York? You're soul searching?" When she returned his smile with her own but said nothing, he added, "In the process of searching, did you perhaps happen to find Mr. De Luca?"

"Actually… I…" She cleared her throat. "We met more than three years ago."

"Oh?" Something passed across his face. "Did you meet him…before or after?"

Though he didn't clarify his question, Angela knew he meant to ask if she met Gael before or after their relationship—and his eyes begged for her not to tell him "during".

"After…" She swallowed. "I met him a few months after."

There was an apparent show of relief displayed on his face after he let out a small sigh and nodded. "So… There was no one else?"

"What?" she probed, but she immediately understood right after. "Oh, no… Andy. I'd never do that to you. There was no one else while we were together. I never cheated on you. I'm sorry if you felt that way."

"Nah. I didn't. You were always good to me, Angie. Which is why I don't get why you left if there was no one else. I knew you liked me back. I felt it. So when you were gone… I just… I don't know if it was better to know there was someone else. Instead of me convincing myself that I wasn't the problem."

Angela felt like something sharp and rusty pierced through her heart—and she believed she deserved it. What she did was awful—but was there ever a "not awful" breakup?

Furthermore, she did what her mother did to her family to Andy. She knew how painful it was, and she let him experience it. How come she became the woman she hated, and she didn't even realize it until recently?

Reaching across the table, she placed her hand on top of his and squeezed it. "I'm so sorry, Andy. I never meant to hurt you. I still regret it to this day that I left without talking to you face to face."

He smiled, twisting his hand so that his palm cradled hers. "Thank you. It means a lot that you say that."

Angela squeezed his hand one more time before retracting it and holding her glass of drink. "I was afraid, you know. You were too good to be true for me, and Evan messed with my head. I thought you and I wouldn't last. I thought you'd eventually leave."

She softly chuckled while looking down at her straw. "I needed control. I thought that if I had it, it would hurt less."

"Did it?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not really. When you asked me to go with you, it meant that I would leave where my family was. Where I was comfortable with. Where I felt the safest even though Mayne gave me painful memories. So if I came to New York with you, I'd feel vulnerable. I left, but it still hurt because I did like you, Andy. Maybe I loved you in some ways too—"

"I get it." Andy wistfully smiled. "You just didn't love me enough."