Chapter Two

Tessa's POV

Carter's eyes went dark. "Is this what you've been teaching him the past few months?"

"He's five and all he talks about is money. Tessa, if you want to turn yourself into someone who only cares about money, fine. Just don't drag my son down with you."

Finn hunched his shoulders and buried his face against me.

I kept rubbing his back, slow and steady.

"What's wrong with that? If he figures out early that money's more reliable than promises, he won't have to fall flat on his face like I did before he learns it."

Carter's jaw tightened.

He pulled a card out of his wallet and flicked it into the trash can by the door.

"Want it? Dig it out yourself."

The door slammed behind him, hard enough that the takeout box on the windowsill shook.

Finn started sobbing into my chest.

"Mommy, I don't want a new heart anymore. Can we just go home? I feel fine now, I promise..."

He tried to sit up straight to prove it, but his lips were already turning a little blue again.

I held back my tears, crouched by the trash can, and fished the card out. Then I wiped it clean with an alcohol pad.

"You silly goose," I said, squeezing his hand. "Once your heart's better, I'll take you ice skating in Central Park."

He sniffled and asked in a small voice, "Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

That afternoon on rounds, Finn's doctor said his numbers were stable and he could go home to wait for a match, as long as someone was with him around the clock.

Before he could even finish, the Holloways' butler knocked on the door, with the driver right behind him.

"Mr. Holloway asked me to bring you and Finn home."

I wanted to say no. But the hospital charged by the day, and the card I'd pulled out of the trash was the only thing I had to fall back on.

The car pulled up in front of the house I'd designed myself. Every light in the front hall was on.

The second I walked in, I froze. The door to my design studio was wide open. My flat files were gone, every last one. In their place stood a row of brand-new easels, with boxes of paint stacked against the wall.

Carter was crouched in front of one of the easels holding a paintbrush, talking with a kind of patience I'd never heard from him before.

"I had these brought over from Europe. Just try one stroke. Just one. Please?"

Across from him stood a girl with her arms crossed, the cuffs of her old sweater all pilled.

Behind me, the butler said quietly that this was Wren Dalton.

So his business trip was right here in his own house.

Wren didn't even look at the brush.

"Mr. Holloway, I've told you a hundred times. I'm not some decoration you bought to put on display."

Her eyes shifted to me, full of contempt.

"So you're his wife? You can't even keep your own husband, and you've got the nerve to walk in here?"

I almost laughed. Getting lectured by the mistress of a man who was only my husband on paper was probably the most ridiculous thing that had happened to me all year.

I pushed Finn's wheelchair toward the elevator, but Carter called after me. For once, he sounded a little anxious.

"Tessa, she's young and she runs her mouth. Don't take it personally."

"Didn't the doctor say Finn needs someone with him around the clock? Wren's basement apartment flooded, there's mold all over the walls, and she's drowning in her grandma's medical bills. She takes care of Finn, I pay her. Everybody wins."

I turned around. "No. She doesn't even know what a kid with heart failure can eat."

Wren's eyes welled up. She yanked the canvas bag off her shoulder and shouted at Carter.

"You hear that? To people like you, poor people are just there to be sized up and tossed aside?"

"If my grandma's dialysis bills weren't piling up, you think I'd want to babysit somebody else's kid?"

"Fine, I won't stay. I'm leaving right now!"

She stormed toward the door. Carter reached out, pulled her back against him, and laughed. "Somebody's got a temper."

"This is my house. If I say you can stay, nobody's kicking you out."

When he looked up at me, the smile was gone.

"Apologize."

The cook in the kitchen, the butler by the door, the housekeeper at the foot of the stairs, all of them dropped their eyes to the floor.

Carter took his time straightening his cuffs.

"Finn's hospital and pharmacy bills for this month are sitting with my assistant. You don't have to apologize. But starting tomorrow, you can pay them yourself."

"Don't make me put you through what I did last time."

I closed my eyes for a second and covered Finn's ears.

"I'm sorry."

Wren scoffed and took half a step back, looking at me coldly.

"What, rich people can't spare more than a whisper for an apology? I'm standing right here and I didn't even catch that."

"Forget it. I'll just go."

That was the end of Carter's patience. He turned to me, his voice ice cold.

"Tessa, beg her to stay."

"Louder. I want everyone to hear it."

I looked at the girl, at the studio behind her crammed with easels, at everything in this house that used to be mine.

"Wren," I said, "please stay and take care of my son."

My heart had stopped hurting a long time ago.

Finn sat in his wheelchair, his face wet with tears. I crouched down and slowly wiped them away with my sleeve. Then, out of nowhere, I smiled.

Before we left the hospital, the transplant coordinator had called me.

Finn's name had moved near the top of the transplant list.

As soon as the right heart came along, he could go into surgery.

And when that day came, this family and I would be even.