Chapter 4

Dustin's mother.

She looked at me, the corner of her mouth curving into an arc.

"Miss Sullivan, it's been four years."

As Beverly walked in, I took half a step back.

It wasn't that I was afraid of her.

I'll admit it—this woman made something in my chest tighten.

"What are you doing here?"

"Dustin flies to Cranehaven every weekend. Does he think I don't know?"

She glanced around the alley, her gaze sweeping over the little bakery behind me, and the corner of her mouth curved.

"You opened a shop. That's nice."

That tone reminded me of four years ago.

When she sat in that hotel room and handed me the envelope of documents, she'd used the same tone—"That's nice."

Gentle, dignified, looking down from on high.

"Mrs. Stephens, say whatever it is you want to say."

She pulled an envelope out of her bag and set it on the hood of Dustin's car.

"There's a card inside. The PIN is your birthday. Three million dollars."

"Jill, you're a smart girl. The fact that you could leave so cleanly four years ago proves you're clear-headed."

"Now leave one more time. This time go further. Move to another city, so he can't find you."

I looked at the envelope and didn't move.

"He's the sole heir of the Stephens family. You know in your heart what kind of person he should marry."

"If you stay here, you'll hold him back—and hold yourself back too."

I pushed the envelope back.

"No need."

"No need for the money, or no need to leave?"

"Neither. I have no intention of having anything to do with him. You've wasted the trip."

Beverly looked into my eyes for three seconds, then smiled.

"That's for the best."

She put the envelope away and turned to go, then stopped.

"By the way, those things I showed you four years ago—you never mentioned them to him, did you?"

I didn't answer.

She nodded.

"That's for the best. Some things, if they're dug up again, won't look good for anyone."

The sound of her high heels gradually faded.

The alley went quiet again.

I stood where I was, staring at that notebook in Dustin's car, my palms cold with sweat.

Day 1,387.

He'd been searching for me for 1,387 days.

If he was the kind of man Beverly described—someone who didn't love me, who only married me for convenience—why would he search for four years?

Once the thought surfaced, I couldn't push it back down.

The next morning, Dustin appeared across from the shop as usual.

I hesitated the entire morning.

At noon, once the last customer had gone, I carried out two lattes and walked out the door.

I set one in front of him and held the other in my own hands.

He froze for a second.

"Can we talk for a minute?"

He practically sprang up off the stone bench.

I sat down, half an arm's length away.

"I'm going to ask you something. Answer me honestly."

"Go ahead."

"The night before our wedding, four years ago—what were you doing?"

He frowned and thought about it.

"I had dinner with a few friends. At the restaurant downstairs in the hotel. Got back to my room a little after ten, called you, and you didn't pick up."

"The next morning I went to your room looking for you, and you were gone. The wedding dress was still there. You weren't."

"I called you forty-seven times. Your phone was off the whole time."

His voice was very flat as he said all this.

But I noticed that the knuckles of the hand gripping the coffee cup had gone white.

"When you were at dinner, what did you say to your cousin?"

"What?"

"About me."

He frowned, clearly searching his memory.

"My cousin? I hadn't been in touch with him for almost two years. I didn't invite him to that dinner at all."

Something in me lurched.

"He was studying abroad back then. How could he have been there?"

His expression changed as he looked at me.

"Why are you suddenly asking this? Did someone tell you something?"

He grabbed my wrist.

"Jill, did you run away from the wedding because someone told you something?"

"You tell me first." I pulled my hand back. "Do you know a woman—someone you dated in college? Short hair, a mole on her right ear."

The confusion on his face turned to shock.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Your ex-girlfriend. Someone showed me a photo of the two of you together, dated two weeks before our wedding."

He stood up.

"I never had a girlfriend in college."

"What are you talking about?"

"The only person I dated in all four years of college was you."