“You look like someone who’s been through hell and is still standing,” Corbyn said softly, drawing her gaze back to his. “That’s the furthest thing from a mess.”
For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. Nervously, she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and she feel her hands trembling. No mental pep talks about boundaries weregoing to save her from falling for this man if he kept saying things like that.
Thankfully, Riley saved her from having to respond when he let out a grumble on his way to stand by the front door. They both laughed, and she shook her head, the moment broken.
“Someone needs his morning walk,” Corbyn told her. “Why don’t you join us? Fresh air might do us both good. And after that, we can spend the day discussing the final chapters of the book. No editing or revisions.”
She gave him a little smile, aware of what he was doing and also extremely appreciative. His suggestion allowed them both to take it easy today, to recover emotionally from all the turmoil. It was exactly what they both needed.
“That sounds perfect,” she said, standing to get her coat.
“It’s going to be complicated,” Corbyn warned, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he followed her.
“The best ones usually are,” Sadie replied, and felt the truth of that statement settle around them.
March 15, 2025
-Corbyn-
The drive to London had been uneventful. Corbyn’s knuckles, though, had remained white on the steering wheel for most of the journey. He’d made this trip countless times since the accident, but not for a social visit.
Sadie sat beside him and, as if sensing his emotional discomfort, would find ways to distract him whenever the tightening in his chest grew overwhelming. She would comment on landmarks or ask questions about the book. At one point, she had even reached for his left hand, threading her fingers through his, and sent his pulse into a different kind of frenzy.
Ellie’s hospital offered a sanctuary of sorts. In the private wing where she worked, Corbyn’s shoulders finally relaxed. Here, no one stared; scars were expected instead of being seen as an anomaly. When Ellie snipped the last stitch from Sadie’s arm and pronounced her healing “textbook perfect,” Corbyn had exhaled fully for the first time in days.
That relief evaporated in Covent Garden’s early evening bustle. He noticed every stare, every whisper. Corbyn found himself performing a dance he’d mastered years ago: anglinghis damaged profile toward brick walls and shadowed corners, presenting the unmarred side of his face to the world. They’d spent the afternoon exploring Ellie’s carefully curated slice of the city. Sadie had been enchanted by it all, her delight infectious, and it made him wish he’d been the one to make the effort despite his discomfort.
Corbyn watched his sister as she pointed out landmarks, noting how animated she’d become. This was Ellie in her element. She was confident, knowledgeable, and genuinely happy in a way that had nothing to do with anyone else’s validation.
“She’s really come into her own here,” he murmured, watching Ellie’s confident stride as she moved ahead to check the gallery hours.
Sadie nodded. Their shoulders brushed as they walked close enough that he caught the faint scent of her citrusy shampoo. “It suits her,” she said. “The energy of it all. Visiting London as a teenager made me fall in love with the idea of living in a city.”
Corbyn’s heart stuttered in his chest, but he remained silent. She’d mentioned her school trip to London once before, specifically that she had been in the city on New Year’s Eve. He had also been in London on that day in 2009. It had been his first holiday season in the city, and he had just purchased his flat, where he spent a great deal of time working. After weeks of locking himself away, a group of his friends from university had convinced him to come to their party, and so, he had found himself riding the Underground in the middle of rush hour.
“I’d never experienced anything like the public transportation here before,” she continued, completely lost in her own memory. “I grew up in a small town, and the closest city was hours away. Now, after living in New York for so long, it no longer fazes me, but being surrounded by so many people on New Year’s Eve… I felt so out of my depth.”
“Must have been quite an experience,” he managed, when the pause in their conversation started to stretch too long.
He told himself there was no way this woman next to him had been on the same train car that day. That she couldn’t possibly be the beautiful redhead whom he had forced himself to believe would never be more than a memory. It was simply a coincidence, her stormy gray eyes, the jolt he felt when they touched… it couldn’t possibly be her.
“It was,” Sadie agreed, already moving on as Ellie gestured toward their restaurant. “And one I never forgot.”
They settled into a corner table at Rules, Ellie insisting on celebrating Sadie’s successful recovery at a historic location. The dining room was warm and intimate, all dark wood paneling and soft lighting that made Sadie’s eyes gleam like silver.
“This place has been here since 1798,” Ellie announced, perusing the wine list. “Dickens used to eat here. So did H.G. Wells, Evelyn Waugh…”
Corbyn rolled his eyes, exchanging a look with Sadie. Ellie was doing what she did best, meddling. Despite that, he found himself relaxing as the evening went on. The wine helped, as did watching Sadie’s genuine enjoyment of Ellie’s company.
“So,” Ellie said, settling back in her chair with her second glass of wine. “I think it’s time for some properly embarrassing stories about my dear brother. Sadie, you need to know what you’re dealing with.”
“Ellie,” Corbyn warned, but his sister ignored him completely.
“Did he tell you about his brief career as a teenage detective?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Corbyn said, though he was fighting a smile.
“Oh, I absolutely would. Picture this, Sadie—fifteen-year-old Corbyn, convinced that our elderly neighbor Mrs. Pembertonwas running some sort of criminal enterprise because she had too many visitors and received mysterious packages.”
