“She’s your ex-girlfriend.” He puffed out his cheeks. “Ex is the operative word here.” But she had never been a girlfriend either. Allison Murray and I had seen each other a handful of times when I’d first moved back. It had lasted barely a couple weeks. She was like a Range Rover. Pure status symbol and unreasonably high maintenance. Her entire allure was that Cal seemed to hate her, and Cal didn’t hate anyone.
