Riley's POV
I had barely recovered from the emotional whiplash of Michael's visit when the doorbell rang again. My stomach tightened. I wasn't expecting anyone, and after the day I'd had, I wasn't in the mood for surprises.
I opened the door... and my heart sank.
"Eric?"
He stood there like he still had a right to look that confident, hands in his pockets, eyes soft with feigned regret, like a man who had dropped his keys instead of my heart.
"Riley," he said, voice dipped in guilt I didn't buy for a second. "Can we talk?"
I stared at him, unable to believe the audacity. He looked good, like betrayal didn't wrinkle a man's face. Same crisp shirt, same boyish smirk. But something about him felt... cheap now.
"There is nothing to talk about," I said flatly, crossing my arms.
His shou
