I blink, caught entirely off guard.
For a fraction of a second, Locke holds his breath. His shoulders tense, his eyes darting across my face as if braced for me to recoil, shut down, or burst into tears at the mention of my ex-husband's name.
Instead, a quiet snort escapes my nose, turning into a full, breathless laugh that echoes off the windows.
Locke blinks. "You're laughing?"
"I'm sorry," I wheeze. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. I'm just... I'm actually not upset at all. I'm deeply flattered that you think I shouldn't have been with him, considering that the man is a walking, breathing asshole."
"He is an asshole," Locke states plainly. "He’s a selfish, arrogant, control-obsessed bastard who treated you like shit.”
A soft, warm ache blooms in my chest at the sheer, unadulte
