When we reached the front of the line, we climbed out and I handed the car over to a valet before offering Jane my arm. Making our way inside together, we greeted familiar faces with polite smiles, both of us slipping seamlessly into our respective roles.
We hadn’t even found our table yet when I felt her body go very, very still. I glanced at her, following her line of sight when she completely stopped walking. A woman I didn’t recognize stood a few feet away, laughing with a group of donors.
She didn’t seem much older than Jane, possibly around the same age as my thirty-four. Dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. An elegant, shimmering navy dress wrapped around her narrow frame. She was pretty but nothing special. Not to me anyway.
Jane’s grip tightened on my arm as I dismissed the other woman from my gaze and glanced down at my wife instead.Nowshe’ssomething special.
“Who is that?” I asked quietly.
She didn’t answer right away, her jaw working as the ice spread back across her features. “Someone I didn’t expect to see. Not here and frankly not ever.”
Jane didn’t look away from her as she answered me, and I knew then that whatever this was, it wasn’t simple social discomfort. It was history—and it wasn’t good.
“Are you okay, Killer?”
“I will be.” She straightened and lifted her chin, snapping out of her shock at seeing whoever this woman was. Jane started forward again, her heels clicking with purpose. I stuck to her like glue, already pushing our disagreement about her brother aside.
Whatever storm she was bracing for here, I was in it with her. Everything else could wait until we’d won this battle, and then I would return my focus to the war I felt like I was fighting for my wife. My marriage. And her very right to actually be happy for once in her fucking life.
CHAPTER 31
JANE
Iwas sure I was seeing things. There was no wayshewas here. No way my mind wasn’t filling in ghosts where there should’ve been only strangers wearing polite smiles and donor badges. I blinked once, then again, like I could change reality if I tried hard enough.
But she didn’t disappear.
Mallory Foundry was right there, in the flesh, standing beneath the library’s vaulted ceiling like she had every right to be here, angled just enough that I couldn’t miss her even if I wanted to. Her hair was glossy and perfectly wavy, her dress cut to emphasize every cheap inch of her.
She hugged the arm of a tall, elderly man and smiled like a cat that had already decided what it was going to knock off the table. The ring on her finger was insane, a stone so large it bordered on parody flashing every time she shifted her hand.
My stomach dropped. I shook my head, trying to come back to myself, to the gala, and to Alex beside me. He stepped into me immediately, his presence solid and supportive, his voice low. “Are you sure you’re alright, Jane? If you’re going to punch that lady, maybe give me your earrings first.”
I tried to swallow past the lump of dread in my throat, but it refused to dislodge. No matter what I did to try to breathe past it, nothing worked. Sweat broke out across my forehead, my heart tripping over itself with every step I took.
“I want to leave,” I said suddenly. “Is that okay with you? You can stay if you want. I don’t mind. I can get a ride, but I need to get out of here. Now.”
Alex didn’t argue or ask questions. I could’ve said the building was on fire and he would’ve reacted the same way, decisive and immediate. He was already turning us away from the crowd. “Okay, let’s go.”
He didn’t slow down as I wrapped my fingers more firmly around the crook of his elbow. He barked at the valet to bring the car around. The man was so startled that he brought it back in record time and Alex ushered me into it, ignoring everything else going on around us.
The door shut, sealing out the lights, the music, and her. Alex dropped into the driver’s seat only a few seconds later, turning to glance at me as he shifted the car into gear. “Home, or to my place?”
My place. His place.I closed my eyes for a second, but the thought of walking back into my house and seeing my mother made my chest tighten.
“Your place,” I said, wishing not for the first time that it was a differentiation we didn’t have to make. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” He nodded and pulled away from the curb without another word. By the time we reached his place, my hands had stopped shaking, but everything else still felt off kilter, like I’d been knocked sideways and hadn’t landed yet.
“I got you some pajamas and a few other things to keep here,” he said carefully as we walked in. “Just to make sure you’re comfortable. There’s still no pressure.”
He led me to his room, opening a closet and waving a hand at the neatly folded piles inside. It was clear he was trying not to make a big deal of it, but I noticed the care he’d put into it anyway. The neutral colors and soft fabrics had obviously been chosen with thought.
As we stood in front of the closet, he moved behind me and helped me unzip my gown, his fingers steady at my back. That terrible, misplaced guilt washed over me again at the brush of his knuckles against my back. I didn’t know why, but it sat heavy on my chest.
“When you’re done here, come downstairs for a bit,” he said. “Have a glass of wine with me. I’m ordering dim sum from that place down the street. You haven’t eaten.”
Without waiting for a response, he left me alone to change. I pulled on the first pajamas I came across, a warm, silky-soft set, and stared at myself in the mirror. My reflection startled me a little bit, the girl looking back at me somehow haunted and elegant at the same time.
