"And that's not all," Tara continued, practically bouncing in her seat. "We drove your car—I mean, the Bugatti—all around the state. Derek even signed it over to me. Isn't that right, baby?"
Derek reached over to squeeze her thigh. "Nothing but the best for you."
Tara squealed with delight before reaching into the footwell. "Oh! I almost forgot. I got you something, Hazel."
She passed back a small paper bag. "Go ahead, open it."
When I opened it, my stomach churned. Inside was a single heel—one I recognized from the photos she'd sent me covered in dirt and clearly rescued from a dumpster. Below it lay my black lace lingerie, torn and stained.
Without a word, I threw the bag back at her. The heel hit her shoulder, and she let out an exaggerated yelp.
Tears immediately sprang to her eyes. "Derek! She hurt me! I was just trying to be nice!"
"Why did you hurt her?" Derek roared, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. "She's trying her best to welcome you back, and this is how you repay her?"
Tara placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Don't shout at her, Derek darling. I'm sure it's because of the hospital trauma. She's still trying to recover her... sanity."