I stare out the kitchen window.Some of the fruit trees look smaller.Less robust.Did someone prune them?I really need to have a chat with Ford, in case it was him.He doesn’t need to do all this work here—he doesn’t live here anymore, and I’m sure he has a paying job he can be doing instead.
“Madison?”Damiano brings me back to the present.
“Yeah.Sorry.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to spend a full evening with you.I crave you, bella.I need to hold you, kiss you.”He pauses.“Please, Madison.Come out with me on Friday.”
Like I could actually say no.Even if I toyed with the idea of saying no, even if I wanted to say no…I have to see him.My dirty dishes laugh at me for being such a pathetic pushover.“Okay.”
* * *
SETH
Madison is everywhere in Munich, and she’s nowhere at all.I’ve been in this city for about a week, and I still see Madison in every woman with light brown hair, every woman with her stature or gait, every laugh that sounds like hers before I realize, no, it’s all wrong, wrong, wrong.
Munich itself is nice.Clean, efficient, lots of parks.I wish I could enjoy it.
I return to my hotel room, exhausted after another day with a realtor, drawing up papers to purchase a building for our new offices.
Should I be doing this at all?Is it a mistake?If Nove goes through with this purchase, I’ll need to make frequent trips here to get us established.I suppose Damiano and I could delegate someone, but we’ve always been control freaks.
I pour myself a whiskey from the minibar and collapse onto the couch, toeing off my shoes so I can put my feet up.
I’m bored.Lonely as fuck.I grab my phone so I can catch up on the latest with the Surf Rats.Some mind-numbing baseball stats should curb my boredom and loneliness.
Before I can go to the stats page, my phone shows me a photo reminder.Six Years Ago!The top photo is from Kyle and Madison’s wedding, and it’s followed by many, many more.My heart squeezes in my chest.Kyle looks so fucking happy.He only has eyes for Madison.His arms are possessively around her or he’s touching her in some way in every single photo.
I was their unofficial photographer.The paid photographer was a buddy of Kyle’s who had just started his business.Kyle took me aside before the wedding, nervous as hell, and asked if I’d snap a few extra photos “just in case.”
My phone is full of them now.I don’t have the heart to delete them, especially not now when they’re the last pictures I have of my brother.
I stop scrolling when I reach a photo where both Kyle and Madison are laughing, their mouths open and heads thrown back in glee.They were too young to get married—my opinion of that will never change.But they werehappy.
And Madison.She looks so young in the photos, but I can see hints of the woman she’s become.Her cheeks are less full now, and her eyes betray her experience, her sorrow.
Would they still be together, if Kyle hadn’t died?I had predicted they would divorce within three years.I was cruel enough to frame it as a bet to Kyle prior to their marriage.Would I have won that bet?I’ll never know.
If he were alive, if they were still together, I’d never be lusting after Madison like I am today.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.She would be off-limits.Sheshouldbe off-limits, even now.It’s why I’m sitting alone in a German hotel.It’s why I’m moping and sulking over a glass of whiskey.It’s why I put more than five thousand miles between us.
But in my heart, there’s no distance at all.
3
MADISON
Damiano picks me up at eight, right on time.He brushes a soft kiss against my lips, teasing.I sigh when he pulls away.
His dark brown eyes twinkle.“Madison.You are a vision tonight.”
“Thank you.”I smooth down the fabric of my little black dress—the sheath I found in one of Great-Aunt Vivienne’s closets.I had it dry-cleaned earlier in the week.“This was my great-aunt’s.I think it’s pretty old, but it’s kept well.”
“It complements your beauty.I am the luckiest man alive.”He steps into my space again and brings his face to my neck.“Bella, I crave you.I must get you to the restaurant before I do unspeakable things to you.”
“I like the sound of unspeakable things,” I whisper.
He chuckles, his breath tickling my ear.“First, food.Then, unspeakable things.”
