Page 90 of The Image of You

I found Vivian in the busy ER. When she saw me, she waved me to an empty room.

“Have you heard from her?” I asked, not bothering with greetings.

“Only one email.”

“What did it say?”

“Not much, really. She said she couldn’t stay here anymore—that she broke it off with you and needed a fresh start.” She paused, squeezing my arm in sympathy. “She told me she’d moved out of the city, Adam. I’m sorry.”

“Did you reply?” I choked out. I’d beg her for the email address.

“I tried—several times. It bounced back. I can’t help you get in touch with her. I’m sorry.”

I blinked at her as numbness crept in.

Ally was gone.

She was really and truly gone. In fact, she’d run from me. Left her life and disappeared.

Wordlessly, I turned and left.

* * *

“Mrs. Givens will see you.”

I paced as I waited. It had taken me ten minutes of talking to get in the building. The only reason I was allowed in was I threatened to cause a huge scene.

Now I was waiting in the drawing room.

A few minutes later, Sarah swept in, looking as unwelcoming and indifferent as I remembered.

“Where’s Ally?” I demanded.

“My daughter’s whereabouts don’t concern you anymore.”

“I need to talk to her.”

Sarah shook her head. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. She wants nothing to do with you. I believe she informed you of that decision.”

“Via text,” I spat out. “That isn’t like Ally.”

“My daughter’s name is Alexandra. And I don’t believe you left her any other recourse but to send you a text while you were off taking your pictures, leaving her alone once again, without any communication.” She narrowed her eyes. “Even after she begged you not to go.”

I stepped back in shock. She knew about that?

Sarah smiled. An emotionless, calculated smile. “Yes, Mr. Kincaid. She told me. I know you had a disagreement before you left. She told me everything, including how unhappy she has been.” She raised a hand and patted her already perfect hair back into place. “After much thought, she decided she couldn’t live this way any longer. She knew she would always be second place for you. She spoke with Ronald and me at length and decided she wanted to move—she needed a fresh start.”

I barked out a humorless laugh. “A move I’m sure you strongly supported.”

She studied me impassively. “Regardless of what she may have told you, I have always had my daughter’s best interest at heart. Ronald and I agreed it was the best thing for her. She felt she didn’t need to be reminded of her little error in judgment all the time.”

I recoiled. Was that how she thought of me? An error in judgment?

“Where is she?”

“None of your business.”

“Tell me. I need to get in touch with her.”