Page 7 of Time After Time
For these two weeks, everyone will enjoy some excellent wine that they’ve each brought along to quietly—and not so quietly—compete with one another, turning every dinner into a passive-aggressive tasting panel and every toast into a thinly veiled argument aboutterroir.
He ruffles my hair as he walks past. “See you for dinner?”
I nod. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
I watch him leave, his silhouette swallowed by the golden light of the hallway.
The quiet closes in on me. Familiar. Safe.Mine.
The snow outside thickens, blurring the world into a soft, white hush. From deep in the chalet, I hear music drifting through the walls—something smooth and jazzy—and the faint hum of voices, laughter, and clinking glasses.
I wait until the very last minute to head back in for dinner, bracing myself for seeing Ransom withThe Wicked Witch from Harper’s Bazaar.
CHAPTER 2
Ransom
Ihaven’t seen her for two years.
I’m not the one who’s been doing the avoidance dance—that’s all Ember. She built the distance and kept it there, brick by careful brick.
I don’t blame her. I know that our affair hurt her, which was why I had ended it when I did. In all honesty, it had gone on longer than I thought it would. I’d just gotten divorced and knew that physical attraction would not turn into anything more,ever.
She was twenty-five, then. Fifteen years my junior.
Smart. Tenacious. Intelligent.
The more time I spent with her, the more we enjoyed each other, the more convinced I became that I had to end it.
In the long term, this wouldn’t work out, and it was unfair to her. She was building her life—doing hermaster’s, while I was living mine, post-divorce, absolutely certain that I’d never marry again.
Saying that the divorce was nasty was an understatement—but then it followed the course of my six-year marriage, which was also hell.
Two doctors with massive egos. Two people with boundless ambition. Two very competitive physicians.
I should’ve seen it. Olivia, at least, should have, since she was the psychiatrist in the relationship.
After my divorce, I had women, fucked them, spent time with them, kept it simple.
That’s what I thought it would be like with Ember.
I didn’t expect that we’d be together for a year.
I didn’t expect that we’d be all but living together in my house in Los Gatos.
I didn’t expect to find her as intriguing as I did.
I didn’t expect a relationship to be peaceful.
Hell, I’d never been with a woman as long as I’d been with Ember without ever fighting.
Sure, we argued, but it was always, somehow, positive. The credit went to her. I could get vicious, my ex-wife had told me that often enough, but not Ember. She cajoled. She got her point across without ever raising her voice. She used humor.
All these years, she’d been on the periphery—Freja and Aksel’s sister, Margot and Jean’s daughter—not arealperson. Then, all of a sudden, she became tangible and precious.
I knew the family well—hell, Iwasfamily in so many ways—that everyone finding out about Ember and me would causesometrouble, but all in all, it wouldn’t be a catastrophe.
Regardless, I knew that I had to let her go. She was too young, too immature. I’d never dated a woman who wasn’t my age ever, so I didn’t know what to expect.
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