Darren stood rooted to the porch, his mind desperately trying to process what the hell was happening.
Three women. Three different faces. Three entirely different problems.
All at the same time?
God of coincidence and fate? Why punish me like this?
Sandy had her hands on her hips like a teacher catching a student red-handed, except her face held more emotion than what was normal between teachers and students.
She seemed genuinely hurt.
Amelia, poised and cold like some sort of assassin, stood by the car and waited. Her expression was gentle, her face was constantly studying him.
Clearly she thought more than she spoke.
And then there was Lily, dressed down in a hoodie and sneakers with her favorite color of pink, staring at him with quiet desperation.
No matter how despondent she looked, and how much those pretty eyes of hers begged, Darren couldn't bring himself to care.
In fact, it even made his stomach twist because he already knew what she wanted to talk about.
