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“When will you be back?” Frustration edges his tone.
“Soon,” I don’t offer a specific time even though I know exactly when my flight will land in Manhattan three days from now.
“I’ll wait to hear from you.” He brushes his lips over my cheek. “Travel safe, Eden. I’m a call away if you need me.”
I turn and walk toward the exit of the restaurant.
I do need him. I also need to come to terms with the fact that he’ll fight me tooth and nail in court.
I’ll confident that I’ll win, but I can’t help but wonder what it will cost me.
Chapter 32
Dylan
I had to track Eden down.
When her absence dragged into its fourth day, I ached to hear her voice.
I called her cell, Kurt’s office, and her office in Buffalo.
She didn’t answer, and no one I spoke with gave me any information.
I know that our conversation about custody in the Alcester case caused friction.
Eden’s coming at the issue from a different place than I am.
She’s walking this earth as an orphan. I have two parents and two stepparents who love me unconditionally.
The loss of her mom left a void in Eden’s life that was swallowed up by the pit that was created when her dad died.
She’s experienced the absence of parents in a way I never have. I pray I won’t for years to come.
I wave her over when she walks into Palla on Fifth.
She looks beautiful dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a patterned blouse.
Her hair is loose and in waves around her shoulders.
It’s breathtaking to watch her move. She’s graceful and elegant.
“Dylan,” she says as she approaches, her face breaking into a wide grin. “It’s good to see you.”
It’s fucking amazing to see her.
I missed her. Jesus, did I miss her.
Everything felt empty in a way it hasn’t before. I worked non-stop, and when I couldn’t find more to do, I went to the gym.
I didn’t even consider taking up the offer of a woman who hit on me when I was on a treadmill.
A month ago, she would have been my type.
Now, my type is the woman standing in front of me.
I scoop her into my arms for a full-on hug. She’s petite and perfect. I hold her against me, relishing in the feeling of her hands running a path up and down my back.
When we part, she points at the T-shirt I’m wearing. “You’re kidding, right?”
