“You know each other?”
Emily stood there smiling, holding hands with a man behind her. He stepped forward, and my brain stalled.
Same brown eyes. Same jaw. Older, but absolutely him.
“Mark?” I whispered.
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His eyes went wide. “Lena?”
Emily blinked between us. “Wait. You know each other?”
“You could say that,” I said tightly. “Emily, take his coat. Mark, kitchen. Now.”
“Are you interrogating my boyfriend?”
I pulled him into the kitchen.
“What is this?” I hissed. “You’re my age. You’re 20 years older than my daughter. And you’re my ex.”
He lifted his hands. “Lena, I swear, I didn’t know she was your daughter at first.”
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“At first,” I repeated. “So you figured it out.”
He swallowed. “Yeah. But I love her.”
Before I could unload on him, Emily walked in, arms crossed.
“Are you interrogating my boyfriend?”
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