Dylan demands as he holds my shoulders firmly. “My ex,” I whisper. I can barely see through my watery eyes. “You have an ex-husband?” Dylan asks, astounded. “My ex-boyfriend, Robert.” I shake my head. “I can’t believe he was here. The door was locked when we got here, but somehow he got inside.” Dylan takes the napkin and mumbles the brief message to himself: Missed you, babe. See you soon. Love, Robert “Are you saying he doesn’t have a key? He broke in here?” he questions angrily. “Who is this guy and when did you last see him?” “I broke up with him last summer. We dated for two years, and we’ve known each other for longer. It’s a long story.” “Did he hurt you? Is that why you’re scared?” Dylan’s bellow startles me, and I pull back from his hands. “No.
