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Thankfully, as she continued to clean out Mitch’s flat, she learned more about her husband.

She delighted with each new discovery. He followed baseball while in England.

His love of history showed in the books he read.

She knew all of this to be true, but to look at his books and see the memorabilia he’d collected, well, she was happy there were no surprises, and that was okay by her.

It took her four days to clean out Mitch’s flat, which had to be the most painful thing she had ever done. Her mother offered to fly to London to help, but it was something Rebecca wanted to do on her own. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Victoria to stay home.

Her family was worried about her. Rebecca was a little worried about herself too, but that had to go on the back burner. She had things to do.

“Are you alright?” her brother had asked the next night when he called her. “I really worry that I left too quickly.” It had felt really lonely after Alex left, but she couldn’t have him stay with her indefinitely.

“No, but I appreciate how long you did stay. I’ll do what I have to do here. Then I’ll come home. I have no idea what to do with the rest of my life.”

“Becca, you don’t have to decide anything next week or month or year. It isn’t like you need money. You have a trust fund. You are a very rich woman. Take your time. We are all here for you.”

“Thank you. I will take my time,” she said to her brother as she walked around Mitch’s empty flat. How had this happened? Why? Why? Why? They had wasted six precious years from the time she was eighteen.

“Mom really wants to fly to London,” he said. “Please tell her it is okay. She is pacing.”

“Really, I’m okay,” she lied.

“Would you prefer if I came? I could reach out to one of your friends from school.”

She hadn’t told them she was married yet. She didn’t want to have to explain everything to them.

“Alex, thank you, but no. I’ll be home in a week, and then I will need all of you to take care of me. I’m going to be a mess.” She stifled another sob. He didn’t need to hear just what a toll this was taking on her.

“I know you are holding it together until you get home, but how are you now?”

“I’m keeping a handle on it for a moment or two. If I ever let that guard down, I’m not responsible. Let’s just not get too mushy, okay?” She didn’t want platitudes. She didn’t want to hear that she’d feel better in time. Everyone could shut the hell up.

Alex understood. “Call anytime. You know, he was my best friend, too.” Alex was dealing with his own emotions. This wasn’t a time she could be there for him, but she tried.

“I’m not the only one suffering, and I know it. How are you?” she asked.

“I miss him. I should have been nicer when we had dinner with Mom and Dad. I mean, here is my best friend marrying my sister. It is wonderful. You were perfect for each other, even though it wasn’t easy for me to think of you together.”

She gave a sad laugh. “Thank you for that.”

Later, when she was cleaning out Mitch’s nightstand, she found the tissue with her lipstick on it from that ill-fated kiss at the Windsor bar.

It was from the day she interviewed and saw Mitch for the first time in six years.

Holding it, she cried anew. He had kept the tissue.

She was part of the story of his life. Part of what was left behind.

The flat felt like it belonged to a stranger, not her husband.

Heck, since they had returned to London after getting married, she had spent more time there than he had.

Cleaning it out felt like a betrayal. It was so final.

He was never coming back, and she had years ahead to live by herself and remember that he was gone for every day of the rest of her life. How was she going to do it?

She hadn’t been back in his life long enough to really have made an imprint on his space, but what she had done was give his life a new direction. And there was still a part of him that was alive, their baby. She would do anything she could to protect their child, her baby…Baby Wilder.

Cleaning out his closet had to be the worst. She could smell traces of his cologne, and there were pieces that she recognized, the burgundy tie he’d worn to her first Zoom call with the company.

She saved the tie after rubbing it to her cheek and then holding it close.

She refused to admit how many of his suits she had hugged, but she couldn’t help it.

He had an old fleece from Wharton, and she couldn’t believe he still had it with the frayed edges and faded coloring.

She kept it, along with a leather jacket, all his photos, even the ones Alex wanted, and any personal item she thought might have sentimental value.

The photos he had of Lily were placed in a separate pile. She didn’t know what to do with them.

It broke her heart to donate all his clothing to different charities.

And in the end, once she’d gotten rid of his clothes and the furniture, she was left with six large plastic bins with lids.

She would ship them home and keep them for their baby.

She had yet to tell her family about the baby.

It was still only her and Mitch’s secret.

The empty space now echoed with each footfall.

Mitch’s life was broken down to only six boxes.

Nothing broke her heart like seeing those six lonely boxes that summarized such a big life.

She bundled them with tape and luggage belts for good measure and then sent them to her parents’ penthouse in Portland.

Now, just two weeks after she’d kissed Mitch goodbye, it was time for her to go.

She grabbed her last things to make her way to the Stark International Hotel, where she would be staying tonight in the corporate family suite before heading home tomorrow.

It had felt much different to arrive with her luggage than to leave.

Who could have predicted such a horrible ending to such a beautiful love story?

When the landline rang while she was in the middle of cleaning a spot on the kitchen floor for the final time, she almost ignored it.

“Hello?” she answered, thinking that if it were her parents or brother, they would always call on her cell.

“Is this Rebecca?” It was a woman’s voice, and Rebecca had a feeling she already knew who it was.

“Lily?” she asked.

“How did you know it was me?” the other woman said, sounding surprised.

“I just had a feeling you might want to talk to me,” Rebecca said. “I found some photos that you should have. I was going to mail them to you.”

There was silence and then Lily spoke.

“What are you doing this evening? Would you like to meet for tea at Claridge’s? Say six?” she asked, as if they were two civilized women who hadn’t been in love with the same man but maybe were old boarding school friends who were reconnecting.

Rebecca took a taxi to her family hotel, checked into the corporate suit, showered, dressed, and tried to look her best before she took a taxi to Claridge’s with a Harrods canvas bag filled with things that belonged to Lily.

Much of the bag was filled with photographs and a couple of books Lily had made to document their dating life before they were to get married.

Rebecca had quickly looked at a couple of the pages and gotten a feel for what they were about, but she didn’t linger.

Torture was torture, and she had been through enough.

Rebecca had been there first, but Lily had been with him a long time.

This was the hardest and kindest thing she could do for another woman who had been in love with her husband.

Rebecca had never been more thankful that Lily hadn’t been a frequent guest at Mitch’s flat.

He’d told her himself that Lily never slept over and hadn’t left anything behind, which Rebecca found to be true.

It was a bachelor’s apartment, through and through.

It was just another way that Lily and Mitch were not compatible.

The truth was, they didn’t have the connection that he and Rebecca did. She knew it in her bones.

The air inside the taxi was sweltering. It was raining outside, yet the heat of late summer was still hanging on and creating something like sweaty steam room inside the small space. This was not a meeting she wanted to arrive at feeling like she was melting, but she did.

Claridge’s was elegant as usual as she stepped inside one of her favorite hotels, which was next in favor when compared to her family hotel.

The black and white marble floor spoke of another time and place, as Claridge’s had been around a lot longer than her family hotel.

She admired the décor—the huge chandeliers, the coved ceilings.

She made some mental notes to share with her father because he would ask, but today everything hurt a little.

One of the helpful staff asked her if he could help direct her to a location, and she wondered momentarily if he thought she was in need of help.

Instead, she told him that she was there for tea.

A moment later, she was standing by a hostess who showed her to a table on the left side of the room, off the main path but regardless, a place to be seen.

She was the first to arrive and would easily see Lily when she arrived a few minutes later.

Pillars that were kissed with gold leaf, mirrored walls, and tall, coved ceilings paid homage to the calming cream-and-gold space.

The table was set with the signature muted sage green and white tea service edged with gold, but Rebecca didn’t think she would be able to have a bite of anything.

When was the last time she’d eaten? Yesterday?

She recalled eating a bagel. Maybe it had some butter or cream cheese on it.

She couldn’t remember, but it was something creamy.

She had glanced at the tea menu, but nothing looked remotely appetizing.