The educational treasure hunt Lex had suggested to us was working great. So many parents ended up in the gift store buying a little memento of the trip.
Sales had increased, which was always great, but inquiries for our workshops had increased too. I always knew sharing my grandfather’s passion with people was a good idea, but with the help of the Spencer Brothers Agency, it was profitable.
As I walked around, I noticed some people sneaking in photos of me. It happened sometimes. People were always curious about the family that had once lived in the house with the magical glass windows.
I continued my stroll, leaving the gravel path for the grass. This place really was magical to me. As a child, I’d played hide and seek with my dad and learned to ride a bike here.
How many generations of children played here before me or my dad? My granddad had built the existing building from the footprint of the house that had stood on this location many years before.
At forty-seven, maybe for the first time in my life, I found myself wondering if I’d missed the boat on having children, someone to pass on the Van Stern legacy.
Once again, Noah intruded on my thoughts. Did he want children?
Why was I even thinking about it? In less than a year, we’d need to face the very real conversation about divorce and all that it entailed. We’d kept our lives separate to make it easier in the end, but the longer we were together, the more our lives weaved around each other.
Yes, in practical terms, he had his place and I had mine. We split our time, but we were always together. There hadn’t been a night in the last month we hadn’t slept in the same bed, tangled limbs, breathing in each other, which begged the question, did we even want a divorce after the year was up anymore? Because neither our behavior nor my feelings felt fake any longer.
“Mr. Van Stern.”
Charlie’s voice brought me out of my daydream. He was practically running toward me.
“Sir, we have a crisis.”
“What happened. Someone got hurt in the gift store?” It wasn’t unusual when the place was filled with breakable glass items. Usually, our first-aid team or calling the paramedics was enough.
Charlie held out my phone, which I’d left on my desk, and a newspaper.
I unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it on the grass. Charlie held my elbow and guided me away from prying eyes as I scanned the article.
“Fuck. How the hell did this happen?”
The things they were saying about us, about Noah. My hands shook as I tried to take in the accusations from the article.
“We can handle it, sir. These lies are preposterous. How can they print this kind of drivel? I thought the Cliffborough Press wasn’t a tabloid.”
I looked at Charlie. Concern was etched all over his face. I couldn’t tell him the article wasn’t entirely false, but how had they found out?
“I need to get to Noah,” I said.
“Sir.” Charlie stopped me. He flipped a page on the paper, and on the inside, there it was for everyone to see. Noah and Jax together at Tanner’s.
My husband and a man his age were practically on top of each other in a public place. Or at least that’s what the photo and the article made it look like.
I folded the paper and crossed the garden to my house.
“What do you want us to do here? I’ve heard people commenting,” Charlie said, trying to keep up with my pace.
“We’re not making statements if anyone openly asks about the article, but if they want to buy a gift from the store or make a donation to our charity of choice, then they’re welcome. We may as well profit from this mess.”
“Yes, sir.”
I crossed the gate onto my property. Something was simmering inside me, but it was hard to tell what it was. Disappointment that Noah let himself be photographed in that situation? Betrayal that somehow the story about our marriage had gotten out?
What I struggled to understand was how the news had leaked when no one knew about our deal.
Not even my mother or Charlie knew, and they were the closest people I had. I told them everything.
Tanner and Jax wouldn’t tell, that I was sure of.
