After Theo and I got home, I showered and he took off—hopefully not to do something illegal—and I drifted around trying to distract myself for a while, but nothing really worked. Eventually, I gave up and climbed the stairs to the attic.
It stretched out around me, a massive space filled with dusty boxes, old sports gear, and memories of all the lives we’d lived in this house. I moved through it without thinking, scanning until I found the boxes with my name on them.
Sinking to my ass right there on the floor, I searched through one box and then another until I found what I was looking for. My old yearbooks from high school. Normally, it would break my heart seeing a picture of Adeline and me together, but I deliberately looked for one photograph in particular now.
It was of me, thirteen years younger, with my arm around the shoulders of a shorter, beautiful girl who was smiling like she’d never stop. Her blonde hair had caught the light that day and those blue eyes were the brightest I’d ever seen.
I waited for that internal hit I always felt, the sharp edge of pain when my heart broke all over again as I looked at her. Tonight, it didn’t come. All I felt was an overwhelming sense of nothing. Just a heavy stone where my heart used to be.
CHAPTER 2
ADELINE
My lunch breaks at the gallery had quickly become routine. I would sit behind the front desk, scrolling through emails from my divorce lawyer or staring at photos my nanny, Amber, had sent of Jennifer and Lauren during their morning playtime. Those pictures of their sticky hands and uneven ponytails with huge smiles on their faces were always one of the highlights of my day. The only thing that topped it was actually getting home to them.
But instead of doing any of that today, I was hailing a taxi. In the freezing rain. But the air itself was warm.
Welcome back to Chicago, Adeline.
Meanwhile, my umbrella fought for its life against a stiff breeze, threatening to snap inside out every few seconds. It was all I could do just to try to hang onto it while also keeping my hair out of my face.
I still hadn’t gotten reaccustomed to the tumultuous weather pattern of the Great Lakes yet. Especially not after all the years spent in the Hamptons as a glorified housewife. Even the weather there had always seemed pre-approved by a board of designer-clad moms who were rich enough to have a direct line to sunshine itself.Not here. That’s a fact.
Thankfully, the next cab driver to pass took pity on me, skidding to a halt without even spraying water all over my shoes. I yanked open the door and dove inside, immediately flashing a grateful smile to him.
“Thank you,” I said, speaking through the shiver that passed over me at climbing into the air-conditioning while damp. “I need to be at La Petit Fermiere in ten minutes if you can. Please.”
The man met my gaze in the rearview mirror and nodded. “Not a problem. Buckle up.”
After I did, he refocused on the street and pulled away from the curb. I relaxed into my seat, turning to face the window. Downtown blurred past the rain-streaked glass as we crossed the city toward the familiar avenues of the Gold Coast, where the restaurant Uncle Clark had chosen was situated.
While I tried not to think too hard about why these streets were so familiar, the driver zigged and zagged through the midday traffic, parking in front of a ridiculously fancy restaurant just about twelve minutes later.
I tipped him as well as I could, then climbed out and rushed into the restaurant. As soon as I stepped inside, I knew I should’ve taken a moment to collect myself before I’d come in. This was not the kind of place that welcomed people with stringy, wet hair who were dripping little puddles onto their floor.
It had linen napkins, muted lighting, and a view that told me no one who usually dined here had to check their bank balances before ordering. I straightened up a little, deposited my umbrella at the coat check, and tucked my hair behind my ears, but that was about the best I could do right now.
I gave the hostess my name and she didn’t stop me when I strode into the dining room. Uncle Clark sat at a table near the windows. As always, he wore a tailored suit with a tie and matching pocket square, his silver-gray hair perfectly styled. Ididn’t think he had ever met a rain shower or a breeze that could makehimlook frazzled.
A family trait I definitely hadn’t inherited.
He smiled when he saw me, rising from his seat and opening his arms. I weaved my way around the other tables toward him, returning his smile and feeling a rush of genuine fondness for the man.
“Adeline,” he said warmly. “Thank you for coming.”
“Uncle Clark, I’m so sorry I’m late. I ran into some traffic, and the rain, and I?—”
“You’re here now, darling,” he interrupted gently, leaning in to kiss my cheek before giving me a quick hug. “Sit.”
As I did what I’d been told, I noticed two other men sitting at his table. One I didn’t recognize at all. He was older, also wearing a sharp suit and a polite smile. The other, however, was brutally familiar.
My breathing stumbled and my heart tripped over itself before sinking to my stomach when I locked eyes with Zachary Westwood. A slight buzzing started up in my ears, drowning out everything else for just a moment.
Zach.MyZach.
For a second, all I could do was stare at him, at those electric green eyes I knew he’d inherited from his mother and at the handsome, regal features I knew had come from his father. I forgot how to move, breathe, and speak for just that one second, only capable of taking in the face of the man I’d once loved.
He looked the same as he always had, but at the same time, he didn’t look the same at all. The dark blond hair was just a bit darker now than it used to be, his features sharpened at the edges, like time had taken that boyish softness I remembered and wiped it away in favor of maturity.
