"I ordered you a White Russian." Cordelia pushed the cocktail in front of him. "It's a metaphorical white flag."

He could tell she'd been there a while from the way the Kahlúa mixed with the cream. The bartender never stirred.

"You couldn't just use a napkin?"

"Well that's no fun!" she fake pouted. From the looks of it, she was already a couple glasses of Pinot in.

They were at "their spot." A private dining room at Brass, a Michelin restaurant connected to a 5-star hotel. It was perfect for when their schedules were too busy. Equal distance from both their offices, with the option to book a room.

"Can't." he said. "I have a hard 15."

Miffed he'd rejected her peace offering, Cordelia pushed it to the side.

In order to know what he was walking into, he'd done a deep dive into both her work and personal devices. Other than searches on Mila and her family, he hadn't found anything too concerning. She spent a little too much time on Pinterest, and stalking his social media, but a little curiosity from an ex was normal. However, if Cordelia suspected anything, she would be careful with her online activity.

"You're causing me trouble." he said straight-away. "I need it to stop."

"I'm worried about you." she said. "And you won't take my calls or respond to my messages. It was the only way to get your attention."

This conversation was his personal nightmare. Anything involving discussing or "diving in" to feelings. His only aim in taking the meeting was quieting her, and figuring if the two women were in cahoots. If so, he would make a decision on how to neutralize Cordelia.

You need to grow up and let this go, he wanted to say. Instead he opted for a softer, more understanding approach.

He touched her hand. "I've moved on, and so should you."

Her posture caved slightly, and she mindlessly swirled the stem of her wine glass. "This isn't some dalliance before getting back together, is it? This is the real deal."

"I'm in love and you need to accept it." he replied.

"I never imagined a world where we didn't end up together." Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she managed to keep a stiff upper lip. "I thought we would be engaged by this point. We had so many plans."

"Cordelia, my entire adult life, including the time we were together, I've had issues with substance abuse. This is the longest period of time I've ever been sober, and it's made me see things clearly."

She sulked further, stewing in his words.

"You see how far I've come and how hard I've worked to get to this point." he said. "I'm atoning and trying to contribute to the community with Salvador's exhibit. Badmouthing me in our social circle chips away at my progress. Which brings me to something I probably should have told you a while ago."

She leaned in, listening intently.

"I've been working with authorities to take down one of my dealers, and everyone close to me is being monitored. You're probably being tapped." It was a clever lie, and he was proud of himself for thinking of it.

"That's why my phone was hacked? she said, confirming his suspicions. "I thought it was you!" She was thinking hard about something, her eyes darting back and forth.

"That explains the pictures." she said.

"What pictures?" he asked. How much did she know?

"I found a bunch of pictures of your girlfriend in that rattrap of an apartment you rented. I found them while you were in the bathroom. What is that place anyway, your drug den?" she asked in both an accusatory and playful tone. Despite her revelation, she still wasn't quite believing him.

"Screw you." he said. "I'm clean."

"Sorry, geez." she said. "So uptight."

"Look, I'm not going to meet up with Feds at my house."

"Oh...that makes sense..." she said. "Why all the secrecy about your girlfriend? Did you meet her in rehab?" she whispered it, aware she was saying something she shouldn't. Cordelia was just as good at pushing boundaries as he was.

"How would you know that? Have you been communicating with Mila?" Now, he was purely fishing. Not only would it get the answer he needed, it would unofficially confirm Cordelia's suggestion. People rarely wanted to know the truth when they asked questions, they wanted confirmation of their preconceived notions.

"No, I've heard nothing." she sighed. "I'm such a dolt. I was so worried after not hearing from you. I was convinced you were on one. I even thought about going to the police."

"Seriously?" he said. "May I ask what the hell you were going to tell them?"

"I don't know." she shrugged. "I'm just now realizing how desperate I look."

Now that she was doubting herself, he was more comfortable with the situation.

"Delia," he said. "Caring is never a bad thing, but you need to take some time and focus on yourself."

"Agreed." she said, waving the waiter away. "Since this is where we're leaving things, I think it's time to discuss the sizable loan you've borrowed from us. My family would like to reevaluate the terms."

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