I had asked the universe for one thing. One single, solitary thing: please let Maddox be a common last name.
The universe said no.
The universe said absolutely not, and also, here's a restaurant table where you'll be sitting three feet from the man who made you c*m in a bar bathroom while your mother passes the bread basket.
The restaurant was Italian. White tablecloths. Candles. The kind of place my mom picked when she wanted to impress Richard, which was always, because my mother had been glowing like a woman reborn ever since she started dating him and I didn't have the heart to ruin it.
I was seated between Miles and my mother. Across from Richard – tall, silver-templed, the kind of handsome that came with money and good genetics. He was warm in a practiced way. Polished.
And next
