I stayed awake and stared out the window, rehearsing apologies that all felt too small. For whatever reaction she’d have. Anger, probably. Maybe disgust. She’d have every right to slam the door in my face.
But I owed her the truth—all of it.
That I’d been wrong. That fear had made me cruel. That she deserved better than what I’d given her.
And that despite everything—despite the lies and the pain and the impossible situation we’d found ourselves in—I wanted her back.
Not just for Lily.
For myself.
Because somewhere between the therapy sessions, the midnight conversations, and the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t watching… I’d fallen for Sarah Tinsley.
And I needed her to know that—needed her to hear it from me—before it was too late.
Epilogue
SARAH
My officein Camden had become exactly what I’d always imagined a therapy space should be—bright and cluttered in the best way, filled with toys and books and drawings taped to every available wall surface. A six-year-old named Victoria had drawn me as a superhero last week, complete with a cape and a speech bubble that said “You can do it!” I’d hung it right next to my desk where I could see it every morning.
London had given me this. A license with my name on it, a job I loved, kids who reminded me why I’d chosen this field in the first place. I had Colin nearby, pub nights with coworkers who’d become friends, it was the kind of life I dreamed of.
At first I thought my units wouldn’t be credited here, but surprisingly, the timeline was the same. I’m now officially a licensed professional.
My phone buzzed while I was organizing materials for tomorrow’s sessions. Gianna’s name flashed across the screen and I smiled before I could help it.
“Tell me something good,” I said, already smiling.
“Lily got first place in her ballet competition last weekend.”
My chest went warm. “That’s amazing. How is she?”
“Thriving. You’d barely recognize her from when you left.” Gianna paused. “Mr. Valdez asks about you sometimes.”
I’d told Gianna a hundred times not to tell me about Hector. She ignored me every single time.
“How is he?” The question came out before I could stop it.
“Better. He’s in therapy—did I mention that? And he tested a new risotto recipe on the staff last week and I think I gained five pounds.”
“That’s good. I’m glad he’s doing well.”
“He misses you too, you know.”
“Gianna—”
“I know, I know. You don’t want to hear it. But someone has to tell you these things. I miss gossiping with you about him.”
I chuckled at that, we talked for another twenty minutes about nothing important—Colin’s thesis defense coming up, Lily’s birthday, whether I was actually going to make it back to New York to attend.
“You have to come,” Gianna insisted. “Lily will cry you if you miss it.”
“I know. I already booked my ticket. Two weeks from now.”
“Good. Because I might murder you too if you don’t. We miss you around here and this might be the only chance I get to see you.”
“To see you?” I asked.
