I frowned as I strode into the empty living area, expecting to find him on the couch in front of the telly. It was odd that he wasn’t here. He was supposed to be home, finally coming off a long stint in the Middle East.
For once, he was meant to be in London for more than a handful of days at a time. I moved further into the flat, shrugging out of my coat as I went.
“You will not believe this weekend,” I said, assuming he was probably in the bedroom. “The wedding was beautiful, but my snobby family?—”
I stopped talking suddenly when I realized the flat was much too quiet. Even Hubert, our four-year-old, brown American Labrador hadn’t come to say hi.
“Hubert?” I called then. “Are you here, baby?”
For a long moment, I paused, listening for the sound of his nails clicking against the floors, but there was nothing. My chest tightened as I checked the bedroom, but they weren’t there either.
“They’re probably on a walk,” I muttered to myself, coming to the logical conclusion. It was late, sure, but…
No. Something feels off.
I couldn’t place it at first. It felt like a subtle shift in the space, like something had been disturbed. Flipping on lights, I headed to the kitchen. My gaze swept over the counters until I finally put my finger on it.
The apartment wasn’t just quiet. It was empty. Not completely but enough that with all the lights now blazing, I could see the spots where certain things had been. Spots that were now vacant.
Thomas’s grandmother’s vase was no longer on the mantel. None of his coats hung on the rack behind the door. The tea kettle he’d bought in Istanbul and had treasured for years wasn’t on the stove.
Cold, sharp awareness slid down my spine. My eyes landed on a single piece of paper resting on the kitchen counter, a set of keys beside it.Thomas’s keys.
I stepped closer slowly, each movement deliberate. I reached for the note and picked it up, quickly scanning the few words he’d left behind.
J—
I think we both know it’s been over for a while.
Best,
T.
I read it once, then turned over the paper, searching for more because surely therehadto be more. After eight years, he couldn’t have left me with only one sentence, and yet, it seemed he had. My gaze dropped back to the keys, then shot to the space where Hubert’s bed should’ve been, but it was gone.
He’d taken the dog—mydog—toFrance. I let out a soft, disbelieving scoff.Of course. Of fucking course, this would be how it ends.
Not with a conversation, a fight, or even with the decency of a proper goodbye. Just a note.
A note and the sudden, unmistakable realization that I’d put my entire life on hold for a man who’d vanished from my life with a single sentence, but not before stealing my beloved dog.
CHAPTER 3
JESSE
Now that I was the COO of a mega-billion-dollar enterprise with my last name slapped on it like a tattoo I somewhat regretted getting, I didn’t get nearly enough time off.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle the job. It was just that the job never stopped. Ever. There was always another meeting to attend, another decision to be made, and another fire to put out before it turned into a problem that would land on Alex’s desk and earn methe look.The one that reeked of disappointment without him ever actually saying the word.
All of which meant that this two-week-long trip to the English countryside to visit Will and Eliza was exactly what the doctor had ordered. I came here as often as I could nowadays anyhow, but having come across the pond for the wedding had meant that Alex could even use my trip as an excuse to not go to Scotland himself.
Besides, I definitely would’ve gotten the look if I’d gone somewhere else. Returning to Miami would’ve gotten me the stink-eye for sure. The Keys would’ve possibly given him a coronary. God forbid, the Bahamas.
Basically, I couldn’t go anyplace where the sun was shining, the drinks were cold, and the list of ex-girlfriends who hated myguts was long enough to become a logistical issue. So here I was instead, visiting my nephew—and my twin and his wife, to be fair—at an English estate that the toddler in front of me would rule like his own little kingdom one day.
I rolled a ball across the polished wooden floor of the honest-to-God castle for a child who had more titles than I had responsibilities.
“Go on, little J,” I said, nudging the ball a little further this time.
