Chapter 2

I believed him. After all, I'd met Adrian through his cousin, Sophie Cole.

Sophie and I had been close friends in college. She used to bring me along when she went out with her cousin's crowd, even though I never quite belonged there.

I was usually the person standing at the edge of the group, holding the same drink all evening and listening more than I talked.

Adrian was different. He never had to find a place for himself. People made room when he arrived.

Even the men who liked to talk about their money and connections seemed to choose their words more carefully around him. I'd noticed that long before I understood much about his family.

Our actual history was short. He'd driven Sophie and me back to campus twice.

Once, when we were caught in the rain, he'd held an umbrella over me.

That was it. Nothing that should have meant anything.

But it had been enough for me to start looking for him at every gathering.

I'd notice when his car arrived. I'd find myself wondering whether he would come upstairs with everyone else. If I saw him across a room, my attention would drift toward him without permission.

It hadn't been enough for him to remember my whole name.

On the night we ended up together, he'd looked at me and asked, "You're Bennett, right? What's your first name?"

"Claire." I remembered how quietly I'd answered.

I wished I could forget it.

He'd been drinking. So had I. We were adults. I'd liked him for months, and when the opportunity came, I hadn't walked away.

What happened afterward was what I couldn't forget.

I told him how I felt. He told me he was waiting for someone else.

Two years later, why would he recognize me in a hospital hallway?

Perhaps the face I'd spent so long dreading showed up in his memory only vaguely, if at all.

That possibility made it easier to leave.

I took a cab home alone.

It was a little after five in the morning when I reached the apartment. I showered, changed into pajamas, and went to bed before it was fully light.

I didn't sleep for long until a knock woke me later that afternoon.

Thinking Vanessa had come home, I hurried to open the door.

But it was Adrian who stood on the other side. His gaze paused on me. "Did I wake you? I didn't know you were asleep."

"It's fine." I pushed my hair out of my face.

"I'm here to pick up a few things for Vanessa."

I stepped aside. "Come in."

He entered, but I didn't hear him move any farther.

When I turned, he was still looking at me. "You shouldn't answer the door dressed like that. You don't know who's outside."

Before I could respond, he walked past me toward Vanessa's room.

I looked down. Long sleeves. Long pants. My pajamas covered more of me than most of my work clothes.

There was nothing to pull closed or tug down, but I found myself doing both anyway. I hated that he could still make me feel exposed without even raising his voice.

I went back to my room and closed the door.

Through the wall, I could hear him opening drawers and packing Vanessa's things.

I stayed in bed until he left. But I didn't get back to sleep.

The following afternoon, Vanessa came home carrying an enormous bouquet.

Her color was better, and she was smiling before she'd even put her bag down.

"Look." She moved her hair aside to show me her necklace. "He had it made for me. A coming-home present."

"It's beautiful."

I meant it. The necklace was delicate, expensive-looking, and unmistakably chosen for her.

I knew Adrian had money.

Once, back in college, I'd gone out with Sophie and some of her friends. I'd accidentally spilled something on my clothes, and Adrian had handed me a spare shirt.

I found out later that the designer label alone had cost thousands. When I tried to return it, he hadn't even taken it from me.

"Throw it out."

That had been Adrian. He could spend thousands without thinking twice.

But this necklace was different.

He hadn't happened to have it lying around. He'd chosen it for Vanessa.

She tilted the pendant toward the light, pleased with the effect.

I watched her smile and understood that there was a kind of attention he gave her that I'd never received.

Vanessa and I had lived together long enough for me to know about her first love.

She'd told me about him before.

He came from a wealthy family up north. During their sophomore year of college, the difference between their lives had frightened her enough that she ended the relationship and went abroad to study.

Three months ago, she'd come back. They'd gotten together again.

"He waited for me," she'd told me one night, crying against my shoulder.

"All those years, he was on his own. I was the one who gave up too easily."

I'd wiped her tears. "Are you moving back north?"

"Not yet. I want to get settled here first." She'd smiled through her tears. "He says it doesn't matter where I am. If I want to see him, he'll come."

I'd told her I was happy for her. I'd meant it.

I knew what it was like to want someone who didn't want you back, and I'd been glad her waiting had ended differently.

I just hadn't known she was the woman Adrian had been waiting for.