ELARA'S POV
Maya chose the restaurant. A small Italian place where the tables were too close together and conversations were never private. Strategic, knowing her.
Damien arrived exactly on time. He wore jeans and a button-down, less formal than I'd ever seen him during our marriage. He looked nervous.
"Maya's already inside," I said.
"Should I have brought something? Flowers? Wine?"
"Damien, you're not meeting her for the first time. She already hates you."
"That's what I'm worried about."
Maya sat at a corner table, watching us approach like a hawk. She didn't stand when we arrived.
"Damien."
"Maya. Thank you for agreeing to this."
"I didn't agree. Elara begged and I gave in because I love her." She gestured to the chairs. "Sit."
This was going to be painful.
We ordered. Maya
