The look on Maeve’s face confused me. But as I followed her gaze, understanding dawned. Michael had the same reaction as Maeve did; frozen in place, face turning pale. And so was mine.

I should have been happy to see my childhood friend coming over for a family dinner, but somehow, I was only seeing Maeve’s ex-husband. Not my friend. I was seeing Michael Black, not Mic.

Chloe, with her flushed face (which I didn’t understand why) urged Michael inside with a brief tug at the sleeve of his grey blazer. He broke his eyes off Maeve with a sigh and walked in, posture as stiff as ever.

I found my senses and tilted my head slightly, to steal a quick glance at Maeve. She was still, like a statue.

A beautiful roman sculpture.

“May I take your coat, Mr. Black?” Chloe reached for Michael’s shoulder, but he grabbed her wrist, shooting her a stern look.

“Chloe…” He frowned, and let go of her hand. We all–as in me, Niall and Chloe–knew that Michael didn’t like us calling him anything other than his name. But Chloe always went out of her way to tease him. I didn’t know a sensible reason for that.

Michael’s eyes cut to mine, and I was broken off my unapologetic thoughts.

Get your shit together Ian. He is your friend.

I wiped the irritation off my face, and stood, making my way over to him.

“Ian.” He addressed as we briefly hugged, a certain undertone to his voice suggesting he was questioning the presence of his ex-spouse in my house. I patted his back while pulling away.

I know…I know your ex-wife is here, and you didn’t expect her. But there’s nothing I can do about it.

Niall gave a quick side hug to Michael, as her asked, “How is work?”

Niall shrugged. “Better.”

“Okay, seriously though. Give me your damn coat. This is a family dinner, not your business meeting.” Chloe snapped, irritated, and Michael threw her another sharp look, unfazed by her tantrums, then shrugged off his blazer, before handing it over to her. Chloe carefully folded it over her arm, as if it was something that could fall and break, before tottering away with a satisfied grin.

Niall and Michael engaged themselves in a conversation when I felt a pair of eyes on me through my peripheral vision. I turned to see Maeve, still standing where she was, her presence somehow forgotten. I didn’t like that thought.

She is the enchantress. She is everywhere.

This was ridiculous. None of this was her fault. I had no right to blame her for simply not sharing her personal details with me. She did not owe me an explanation. And yet I couldn’t suppress the feeling of betrayal that was spreading like a disease inside me. I hardly knew her. Whether she was married or divorced (even to my best friend), it should not bother me.

Yes, that was the right way to put it.

She was still eyeing me discreetly when I turned and took a brief step toward her, intending to engage in a less awkward conversation. But Michael beat me to it. He walked past me, reaching to her in long unhurried strides. Before I could.

I stopped. And watched as Maeve’s eyes shifted from me to Michael in an almost reluctant way.

No, look at me. Keep your eyes on me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. How have you been?” His words hardly fell on my ears, as if solely reserved for her to hear.

Something unpleasant shifted inside me.

Maeve replied something softly, rosy lips barely moving. Then trailed her eyes toward me again, and some unclear expression passed across her face. The usual curtain was drawn, but I was far too deep into sorting out my own thoughts, to gauge hers.

“Michael, this is Maeve,” Chloe came around, stopping beside Maeve. “Maeve, this is Michael Black. An old friend, and my mom’s favorite.” Maeve quickly switched her expression from tensed to relaxed to a smile.

Oh, Chloe, only if you knew.

Michael didn’t say a word. Maeve’s lips remained sealed. They just stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between them, and an awkward silence stretched between us all. With Chloe switching stares between Maeve and Michael, Niall looking puzzled over at me, and me… well, just blank.

Was I supposed to know what was going on? Yes.

Did I want to know? Hell no.

“Michael!” Mom gasped from the kitchen door, her voice tearing through the deafening silence, and drawing all our eyes away from the pair. “Oh, my God. When did you arrive?” She reached up and kissed both his cheeks as Michael gave her a small, but the best smile he could manage.

Michael was basically mom’s third son, indeed, the favorite one. Since he grew up under the unfocused and divided care of his single father, he had always needed her more than me or Niall.

Mom loved him, and by what I could remember of our shared childhood until now, he loved her too.

“Ian?”

Uh oh! My turn.

Mom rushed to me and engulfed me into her arms. “How have you been? Oh my, all my children are here. Is this some kind of surprise gathering?” She pulled back and kissed both my cheeks lovingly. As much as I tried, I couldn’t give her the best reassuring smile. There was way too much going on in my mind. And the best mother that she was, she instantly noticed it. Her smile faltered ever so slightly, but before she could point it out, dad called from the kitchen.

“Dinner is ready!”

Mom touched my cheeks, the look in her eyes saying ‘We will talk later’.

Only, I didn’t know if I wanted to talk to anyone about it at all. I didn't even know what it was.

Mom ushered all of us toward the dining room, as if we were a gaggle of geese. I followed the crowd, right at the back, slightly away from the group.

I was somewhat prepared to have Maeve around here because I knew she was coming. And I wasn’t at all upset because Michael was here. It was very common thing for him to dine and sometimes even stay late at night.

But I wasn’t ready to have them both here, together. Wasn’t ready for the way he kept stealing glances at her as we made our ways inside the dining room.

No, I was not jealous. It was more like…an anger, for reasons I was yet to figure out.

Niall softly nudged me with his elbow. When I looked up, a little frown pinched his eyebrows together. “You good?”

No, I am not good. I am anything but good right now.

“Yeah, fine.” I nodded my head with a little smile, and he patted my back before joining the crowd.

Everyone gathered at the dining room, Chloe keeping Maeve thoroughly engaged in a conversation, and Niall doing the same with very little effort with Michael. I sat down at my usual place, the first chair at the edge of the table.

I had personal reasons for that. Something like, into-the-group-yet-slightly-away kind of thing.

“Maeve, have a seat, dear.” Mom showed Maeve to the chair across me. Beside Michael. My jaws tensed.

Mom, I thought you were on my side.

Maeve glanced uncertainly at the chair, then at Michael who was already staring up at her. They really needed to stop staring at each other like that.

Or maybe I needed to stop my ass from smoking up. Tsk.

Just as Maeve lowered herself, Chloe came up behind her and whispered something in her ears. As soon as she pulled away, Maeve gave her a genuine–somewhat relieved–smile, and nodded her head.

What did she tell her?

Chloe then motioned her toward the chair at the head of the table, one on my right.

Good job, Chloe.

Maeve’s eyes cut to the chair, then trailed to me, and momentarily, I was thrown off guard by the smile she offered me. A smile that said she was…glad.

For what? I didn’t know.

Chloe sat herself beside Michael and he gave her a blank look. He didn’t look at all disappointed that Maeve didn’t sit beside him, and was now making her way to my side.

My side… That had a nice ring to it.

Mom and Dad, and two kitchen staff came in with the dinner, as Maeve lowered herself on the seat beside me. Almost immediately I was enveloped with her familiar, soft scent. And I inhaled, too deeply for any good.

I needed to store some of that in a corner of my lungs. For later use.

After what seemed like a few centuries, a little smile drew on my lips. A genuine smile.

Maeve was sitting beside me. And the look on her face said she was happier to sit beside me, than with her ex-husband.

It may sound awful, but the feeling was…pleasant.

You're going to hell, Cole.

Yep. I guessed so.