"The whole balance?"
No, just the minimum, but he didn't need to know that. "It's fine," she repeated, swiping the mail from the counter and dumping it in the nearest drawer.
He shook his head. "Obviously not. I'll give you some-"
Tight, angry words shot up her throat and she swallowed them back, holding up her hand instead. "No."
"Liv, this is still my house, too. If the costs are too high-"
"Then it's time we sell it. That's the only conversation we're going to have about money, okay?"
He clamped his mouth shut and leaned back against the other counter, crossing his arms. "I don't want to sell."
Even though it was her plan, deep down she didn't want to either. Hot, sweaty memories of the night they moved in flooded her mind unexpectedly and she turned to the sink so he wouldn't see the pink of her cheeks or the bright tears in her eyes.
"Where would you move?"
Pine Harbour didn't have many rental options. Rafe lived in the only apartment building. There were two units above his mother's cafe but that was obviously out of the question, and any house would be out of her price range.
He figured out her plan just as she opened her mouth to confess, and from the sound of his voice at her back, he was pissed. "You're leaving."
"It's for the best," she whispered. She couldn't hang around to see him move on, and it didn't matter that he'd almost kissed her. Twice, both times acting like you were an oasis in the middle of a freakin' desert. Didn't matter, she reminded herself, because they'd scorched enough earth in their divorce that really getting back together wasn't going to happen. If they kissed, and oh god did she want that more than her next breath, they'd tumble into bed. And on the other side of a torrid love affair with her ex-husband stood her ex-mother-in-law, ready to brand her as a hussy and drive her out of town.
She wouldn't be pushed. If she left, it would be with her head held high. Rafe needed to not kiss her, end of story, and the only way that was going to happen was if she put some significant geographical distance between them. She cleared her throat and raised her voice enough to claim bravery, however false it might be. "I moved here to be with you. We're not together anymore. It was a mistake to stay after the divorce."
"You have friends here," he rasped, and she wanted to turn and look at him. Wanted to soak up the hungry, needy look she imagined was scrawled across his face and pretend it was enough to pull them back together.