I’m just not sure what it is.
I want to run to River. I want to throw my arms around him, press my face into his chest, and let my heart settle at last. But I can’t move. Something is wrong.
He doesn’t reach for me.
He looks at me, yes, but not the way he did before. Instead, there is hesitation. A flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
And the stranger—why is he here?
I should be happy that River is back, but all I feel is an ache so deep I can barely draw breath.
Is he still mine? Was he ever?
I told him I loved him, but he didn’t return the sentiment. Still, he promised to help me, to get my designs back, to…
I sigh.
The man with him is blond—blonder than Brett but not as blond as I am. Of course, mine isn’t quite all natural. He’s tall, handsome, with a sculpted jawline and brilliant blue eyes. His hair is thick and unruly.
I cock my head. He reminds me of someone.
It hits me like a bloody anvil.
He looks like a bloody male version of Misty.
I must be seeing things.
I’m back, Emily, and I’m glad to see you.
River’s words to me before chaos broke out.
He still stands against the wall. Brett is holding Sienna’s hand whilst staring at the new man. Jake, his name is.
And Jake…
He looks …
Well, he looks like Misty, but he also looks…forlorn, really.
The weight in my chest is unbearable, pressing, crushing, leaving me raw and aching in ways I don’t understand. My mind races, grasping at pieces that refuse to fit.
River is here. He’s standing right in front of me, but it doesn’t feel real.
It should feel like relief. The man I love has returned.
Instead, I feel like I’m on the edge of something dark and dangerous, as if I’ve stumbled onto a stage mid-performance, but I don’t know my lines or what role I’m playing.
Who the hell is Jake, and why is Brett looking at him like he’s seeing a phantom?
I stare at him, at the sharp angles of his face, at the undeniable resemblance—the same striking blue eyes, the same high cheekbones, the same proud tilt of the chin.
God, he looks like Misty.
Misty is here, somewhere in this house, completely unaware that there is a man standing in the foyer who could be her male doppelgänger.
No one speaks.
The silence is thick, suffocating, filled with a million unsaid things.
