Page 44 of Waiting for You

Violet's lips thinned, furious.

"I know," I warned her. "Don't start lecturing me."

"I'm not saying a word," she said.

"Good."

A strategic silence settled over the room. I reached for my water glass and set it back on the coaster with a thud.

"I can't be the one still in pieces while he stands there, whole and happy and miles past me," I announced. "I need him to see I've moved on. And I need it to actually be true."

Simon drew a slow breath through his nose.

"I can feel a storm front moving in," he muttered.

"Andrew's a good man. He's kind, he pays attention, and for the first time in years I want to actually try with someone." I shifted my gaze to Violet. "I want Xavier to look across a room and see a woman building something new. Not the wreck he watched fall apart in his doorway."

Simon's eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"That's a terrible idea," he warned.

"That," Violet countered, leaning forward, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light, "is a masterpiece of an idea." She pointed a finger at Simon. "And I know exactly how to put it on full display."

"How?" I demanded, my pulse spiking.

She held my gaze, her chin tilted up, her tactical brain already ten steps ahead.

"A mandatory couples trip," she announced.

ELEVEN

XAVIER

I'd called her because I was worried about her safety.

That was the clean version of the truth, the only one I could say out loud without examining the radioactive core of it. She'd run into Eliza in the doorway, and by the next morning she was fleeing the estate.

The timing was sudden, and after replaying the whole sequence, I landed on the only conclusion that fit the data: she hadn't moved on. She'd confessed she regretted leaving me, right there on the cold stone steps with the night closing in around us, and a person doesn't say those words about a chapter they've permanently closed.

After finding the ring in my pocket, she'd likely knocked on my door to finally say something real. What she hadn't braced for, what I'd watched wreck her face before she locked her expression down, was Eliza.

I'd arrived at those conclusions and needed to do something with the adrenaline, so I called her. That was the only move I made.

It was possible this was just ego-driven thinking. I knew that. I'd known it the second I dialed her number, and I knew it now, lying flat on my back in the master bedroom of the new house I'd just bought. Early morning light bled through the edges of the curtains in New York, a few blocks from Violet and Simon's place, the zip code I'd wanted to land in.

I hadn't lived in the city in years. The clinic network didn't require me to anchor in any state, so long as I showed up to the right board meetings. I'd spent so many years living out of hotels and short-term rentals that the decision to finally plant roots felt enormous. My assistant had sourced the property, bought it, and staffed it. I'd only moved in two days ago, and it already felt more like home than anywhere else I'd existed in a decade.

The house was suffocatingly quiet. Eliza was still asleep in the bed beside me, her breathing a steady rhythm.

I threw off the duvet and got up.

I went straight to the gym in the basement and ran on the treadmill until I'd burned out whatever frantic energy I was carrying. Then I showered and walked into the kitchen to find Eliza leaning against the marble island with a mug of coffee. Her eyes were clear, the corporate tension gone from her shoulders, while the housekeeper moved around her.

I pulled out a stool and sat.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked.

"Very well." She scanned the vast kitchen, her chin tilting up in approval. "This is a spectacular house, Xavier. You chose well."