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She’d wondered the same about Jack, refusing to read the society page articles speculating about his love life, drawn only to the photographs of him, back straight, head held at a regal angle, his dark eyes as unreadable asever.
From a distance, her time with the two men had seemed like a dream, which was better than the nightmare it had felt like in the immediate aftermath. She saw again the fear in Jack’s face outside the sex club in Paris where he’d brought her to watch two women go down on him, saw the hurt on Liam’s face when he’d learned aboutJack.
She closed her eyes, letting herself settle into the rhythm of her breathing, the comfort of being home. Later, she would order takeout, watch a movie. Eventually Virginia would crawl into her lap and pretend she didn’t want to be there while Nina petted her. Tomorrow she would go to yoga with Karen and the girls and laugh overbrunch.
She would not dwell on the past. She would live in the presentinstead.
She sent a silent prayer out into the universe: that Liam’s heart had healed, that Jack would eventually find someone who could crack his open. They deserved whatever brand of love theyneeded.
So did Nina. She finally believedthat.
Now she just had to figure out what thatwas.
