She has every reason to hate me, to be angry with the way things ended. I was a coward. I slept with her, with her parents downstairs, and then snuck out and never responded to her attempts to reconnect.
Five years. Shit, how has it been that long?
How the hell am I supposed to work with her? To sit across from her in meetings, pretending we're just colleagues? Pretending I don't know how she tastes, how she sounds when?—
Stop. This is exactly why I walked away. Why I blocked her number. Janie Harrelson is the one line I can't cross again without destroying everything.
I drag my hands down my face, exhaling hard.
"Professional," I mutter. "Just be fucking professional."
But my body remembers. Every cell vibrates with awareness that she's back in Palm Beach. Back in my orbit. Not a fleeting visit before she returns to Chicago.
She's here, and not only can I not escape her,. we have to work together on this initiative. I already told Pope I would. The announcement was made at the meeting. There is no getting out of this while keeping my professional pride in tact.
I rake my fingers through my hair, squeezing my eyes shut. The leather seat creaks as I lean back, forcing deep breaths.
Boundaries. I need boundaries. Clear, professional lines. We'll work together on this community outreachprogram, and that's it. No late-night meetings. No drinks after work. No reminiscing about old times.
The ache in my chest calls me a liar.
I slam my finger into the ignition button, and the engine roars back to life. Pulling out onto the highway, I crank the radio to drown out my thoughts.
But the image of Janie commanding that boardroom follows me all the way home, burned into my retinas like I stared at the sun too long.
SEVEN
Janie
I stand at the threshold while Janet Reeves, the realtor, turns the key in the lock. The scent of fresh paint and sunlight greets us as the door swings open, revealing hardwood floors that gleam in the late morning sunshine.
Beckett doesn't wait for permission. He charges past us both, socks sliding across the polished surface like it's his personal skating rink. His backpack bounces against his slim shoulders as he races down the hallway.
"This one's mine!" His voice echoes through the empty house, bouncing off bare walls and high ceilings.
Janet laughs beside me, the sound warm and genuine. "Children always know exactly where they belong, don't they? It's like they have a sixth sense."
My fingers trail along the cool wall as I follow the sound of my son's footsteps, each one lighter than my own. The emptiness of the rooms doesn't seem hollow. I see it as possibility.
"He's been talking about his own room since I told him we were moving. When my mom found this house, I knew he would be thrilled." Pride swells in my chest, making ithard to speak above a whisper. "In Chicago, we had a tiny apartment. He had his own room, but it was really more like a broom closet."
"Well, this is certainly an upgrade." Janet's heels click against the floor as she follows me. "Wednesday's closing will be simple—just signatures, and then the keys are officially yours. This is going to be a good place for you both."
I swallow hard against the tightness in my throat. Five years of sixteen-hour shifts. Five years of daycare pickup at six sharp to avoid late fees. Five years of stretching every dollar while climbing the hospital ladder.
"I hope so," I manage. "We've worked hard to get here. Both of us."
Beckett's laughter bounces down the hallway, filling the space with life. It's as if the house is already breathing, already ours, even before a single box arrives.
"Mommy! Come see my new bedroom! It has a window seat!"
Janet touches my shoulder. "Go ahead. I'll wait in the kitchen. I've got to scroll through my emails, anyway."
My hand cups onto the thick wood door frame as I head down the hallway. Each step is momentous, like I'm walking not just through a house but through a doorway into our future.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out to see Mom's text.
Dinner at 6. Blake's bringing the wine. So excited to have you and my sweet Beckett home for good.