Page 57

SINCLAIR

The second I walk into my apartment, I can sense something is different.

“Monty, wait,” I instruct, hovering in the doorway, my eyes darting down the hallway toward the open-plan living area. I tilt my head and listen but there are no other sounds except my heartbeat in my ears.

I pull my phone from my purse and bring up the app Denver installed after he informed me he’d increased the security at my place. He showed me how to use it, but I didn’t think I’d ever need to. He was with me all the time.

I fumble with the settings until I find the camera footage for the past couple of hours. Monty and I are leaving for his walk, so I speed past that until I find what I’m looking for.

My throat goes dry.

I drop Monty’s leash, and he races inside, barking.

That’s what’s different. I should have recognized it immediately.

The tinge of mint and herb in the air.

Him.

“What the hell?” I squeak as Denver walks into my apartment with purposeful strides.

There’s no mistaking that it’s him. I’d recognize his broad shoulders and that painfully strong beautiful profile he has anywhere.

He looks at the camera in the hallway, knowing exactly where it is. His eyes darken with intensity as he stares at it for a few seconds, like he knows I will see this.

Like he’s looking right at me.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, tears pricking at my eyes. He looks incredible, dressed in his usual black suit and tie and white shirt. Three weeks has made me wilt and fade. But every pound I’ve lost, he seems to have found, in muscle and pure raw manliness.

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you in LA?” I whisper as I follow him on the cameras through the living area and into the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator and places something inside.

I pause the footage and run to the kitchen. Monty is going mad, racing around the place, nose glued to the floor as he tracks the trail Denver must have left.

Flinging open the refrigerator, I see what he’s left for me immediately. It’s hard not to. I have almost nothing inside. Why does a girl need food when all she can stomach is coffee made the way the man she loves and pushed away likes it?

My fingers tremble as I close them around the cold cardboard, taking the smoothie cup out. There’s a sticker on the side with a whole fruit basket on it, and the text:

You better get juiced to my jokes.

I sob out a half cry, half laugh as tears spring free and race down my cheeks.

Why would he come in here and leave this for me?

I put the straw in my mouth and suck. Flavor bursts across my tongue and I screw my eyes shut, swallowing down the first fresh thing I’ve tasted in days.

I drink the entire thing within a minute, crying the entire time.

I play the camera footage again and Denver walks into my bedroom. He puts something on my pillow and his lips move. My fingers are clumsy as I rush to rewind it and turn the volume up so I can make out what he’s saying.

“I never gave you this back. I’m so sorry, Sinclair. Sullivan had it tested. It’s not him.”

My eyes are blurry as I stumble into my bedroom.

The diamond is glinting against the white silk, its chain like a thin golden snake curling around it. I pick it up and let it dangle from my fingers as I sink onto the bed.

Monty comes and sits by my feet, whining as he looks at it twirling around in a circle.

“It’s not him, Monty,” I whisper, my voice so small it’s almost nonexistent.

He paws at my leg, and I reach down to stroke him, curling my fingers around the silky tufts of hair on his ears.

I knew the moment Theo so cruelly told me that these weren’t my brother’s ashes that she was telling the truth.

I don’t know how, I just did. But it hasn’t stopped me from missing the weight of it around my neck.

It’s been the one thing I’ve held on to for so long, desperately trying to maintain some kind of connection to him.

The chain slips through my fingers and drops to the floor.

“We’ve lost both of them,” I whisper to Monty as I play the footage and watch Denver walk out of my apartment without looking at the camera again.

“We’ve lost both of them.”