“Oh god,” Madison said, breaking off a piece of her scone, apparently unable to wait for breakfast. “William found himself another Wilderness fan. Okay, okay, let me guess.” She paused dramatically. “You and William met at a Wilderness Weekend concert. You both went to sound check and then to the bar next door, where Leonard Nulty was having an early dinner. Your eyes met, and the rest, as they say, is love.”
That would’ve been a fabulous story. Hannah almost wished she’d thought of it. Of course they would’ve reconnected over Leonard Nulty’s soul-crushingly beautiful words.
“Not quite.” She sipped her coffee, caffeine and relief filling her veins. She liked Madison. She was fun and quirky and owned it. The last time Hannah had felt this comfortable with a stranger had been with Riley, and the time before that, Kate and Will. “Are you a Wilderness fan?”
“God, no. No offense. They just aren’t my thing.” Hannah could only imagine the music Madison listened to. The car radio had been set to something innocuous, but that didn’t mean anything. “But it’s impossible to know William without knowing Wilderness.”
Hannah laughed. “That is true. Will introduced me to them back in college.”
“Ah, so you two have a history.” She winked as if Hannah had slipped up and spilled a secret.
“Yeah. We were best friends in college, lost touch for a while, then a few months ago we ran into each other... and the rest, as they say, is love.”
“Shame you two didn’t run into each other sooner. Manhattan’s not that big, after all.” There was a hint of contempt in Madison’s tone, but Hannah couldn’t place it. Yes, she’d given her a detail-free version of the story, but she’d tied in Madison’s own phrasing, made sure her “ran into each other” sounded wistful.
“I know, but there are a million people on that island—my best friend and I live a few blocks apart, and I swear, if we didn’t seek each other out, we’d never accidentally run into each other. Will and I actually crossed paths down the Shore.” That was the part of the story they had crafted generically enough so it couldn’t be questioned or verified, unlike a concert or a fundraiser or even something as simple as being in the same bar to watch the same game. “My parents live ten minutes or so from the beach, and I was down for a weekend. Our shared loved of funnel cake brought us together, really.”
“Kismet,” Madison said, her eyes glued to her phone. She still seemed off, but all Hannah had to judge by was the bubbly woman she’d been with for the past thirty minutes, and no one could stay that way indefinitely.
“Everything okay?” Hannah asked finally, unwilling to let the weird vibes she felt go unnoticed.
Madison pocketed her phone with a grimace. “Yeah. Just work and wedding stuff. Jon and I are meeting with the florist tomorrow before we head back to the city. She agreed to a Sunday-night meeting, and now she’s being all bitchy about the timing. But there are ten other equally qualified florists in the area, so whatever.”
“Wedding planning sounds fun.”
“It’s god-awful. I swear, if you can get through planning the wedding, marriage should be a breeze. You seriously dodged a bullet.”
Hannah laughed, knowing that what Madison said was one hundred percent true after her sister’s wedding. “And work?”
“Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m a physical therapist, and apparently there’s some insurance issue and they need paperwork, and ugh. Can I just fix people, please?”
“Whereabouts?” Hannah asked, her pulse quickening. Could she have found a physical therapist after all this time? Madison was someone Will knew and who she would want on her side.
“Union and Nineteenth.”
She could walk there from her office if she wanted. “I’ve actually been looking for a PT for a while. Do you take new clients?”
“I do.” Madison looked her over. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Bum knee.”
“Let me check my schedule, but I’m sure I can fit you in. We’re practically family.” Madison swigged her coffee. “Speaking of, we should get back. You don’t want to make a bad first impression by being late to brunch.”
“Then I guess that means we can’t try and sneak in a coffee refill?” Hannah asked, swirling the last of the coffee around in her cup. It had gone cold, but the tiniest part of her wanted to drink it if her only other option was that sludge back at the house.
Madison shook her head. “Bringing in outside coffee is basically treason.”
Chapter 20
Hannah
"Where were you?” Will’s tone was near panic as Hannah stepped into their bedroom.
She eyed him, sitting at the foot of the bed in slacks—not jeans—and a long-sleeved polo. It was far from the usual Sunday brunch attire. She guessed today would be the day to wear the dress she’d brought.
“Madison took me to get coffee since the pot in the kitchen practically melted from whatever your dad likes.”
“Madison?”
Hannah pulled the dress out of the closet and glanced at her watch. Blowing out her hair wouldn’t be an option, but she still had enough time to get presentable. “She’s cool. It’s nice having another woman here.”
“Right.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling.
“Hey.” Hannah sat down next to him despite the ticking clock and pulled his hand into hers. “It’s going to be fine.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite feel real. “I know, Abbott. How could it not be with you by my side?”
Normally, she would’ve rolled her eyes at such a comment—Will made them often enough—but this one rang true in a way the others hadn’t. She kissed his cheek as he had hers so many times that week. The surprising intimacy of that small gesture sent a shiver down her spine.
“I’ll be right out,” she said, giving his hand one last squeeze.
Less than twenty minutes later, Hannah sat beside Will at the dining room table across from Madison, Jon, and Daniel. It felt intentional, and she wished someone would move to their side. The head of the table was open, awaiting Jonathan’s arrival—apparently getting there before the patriarch was not just a ploy on Will’s part. Will hadn’t introduced her to Daniel, which made sense, but the youngest Thorne kept looking over and grinning into his coffee. Either he knew that shit was about to hit the fan gloriously, or more likely, Will had told him the news on their ten-mile run.
Hannah and Will kept their hands hidden under the table. There would be no deflecting the gleam of their wedding rings or hiding the rock on her finger. She was just about to force down another sip of the household coffee—Madison making faces at her across the table—when the door swung open and Jonathan himself entered. It was such a formal entrance, she had to stop herself from standing as if he was a judge entering his courtroom.
It took about two seconds before Will’s father’s eyes landed on her. He took her measure in those seconds. She knew by the dismissive way he averted his eyes that she had been found lacking.
“Good morning,” he said, sitting down and pouring himself a cup of coffee. His eyes raked over each member of the Thorne family before landing squarely on her and Will. “And who is your lady companion, William?”
Will, to his credit, didn’t even hesitate. “Dad,” he said, thrusting their entwined hands toward the head of the table, a huge and convincing grin brightening his face, “this is my wife, Hannah.”
Despite working for a magazine called Deafening Silence for years, Hannah herself had rarely experienced the phenomenon. But there it was—the silence was screaming at the Thorne breakfast table. Jon, Madison, and Daniel collectively held their breaths, waiting to see Jonathan’s reaction to the marriage. The silence unnerved Hannah. In her house, there would be laughter or tears or yelling, or something. When Stephanie had arrived home engaged, their mother had laughed and then cried at her baby growing up. Their father had outright cried, shameless. But all Jonathan did was place his coffee cup back on its saucer.
He considered the two of them, then the rings, and then Hannah herself before his gaze finally settled back on his son. “Ah. Well, I see you did more on that little impromptu vacation than drink by the pool.”
Hannah laughed. It nearly echoed in the large space where no one else had said a word or even made a sound to Jonathan’s retort. She cut her laughter off, clearing her throat. Next to her, Will took a sip of water.
“I suppose congratulations are in order then,” Jonathan said. “Renata?” She was at Jonathan’s side in an instant. Hannah hadn’t even noticed her in the room. “Champagne. Unless... Hannah can’t partake?”
She felt Will stiffen beside her. Hannah turned a smile toward her father-in-law. “Champagne would be great.”
A nod from Jonathan sent Renata to the kitchen. Hannah hoped she was keeping notes—this family needed an unauthorized biography. But then the staff probably had confidentiality agreements.
“So, if I may,” Jonathan said, returning to his coffee, “why the rush?”
“It didn’t really feel like a rush to us, Dad,” Will said, reigning in their hands but keeping them front and center on the table. “Hannah and I were best friends in college. I’m sure you remember me talking about her.”
Jonathan nodded.
She cut a look at her new husband, disbelieving. Sure, her family knew who Will was in a cursory way—that “friend from college”—but this seemed more than that. Much more.
Keeping his eyes on his father, Will continued, “When we met again this summer, everything just fell into place. It was like, why had we wasted all these years fighting it? A perfect fit, like Mom used to say.” That was a new addition to the tale. “We didn’t want to steal the limelight from Jon and Madison’s wedding, and we didn’t want to wait when we knew we wanted to be together.”
The first somewhat real smile appeared on Jonathan’s stiff face. “You’ve always had your mother’s whimsy.” He turned his attention back to Hannah, the spark of curiosity clear on his face. “And what is it you do, Hannah?”
Telling people she was a journalist either elicited “wows”—the job had a built-in coolness factor, especially when her beat was alternative rock music—or came with an implied sympathetic shoulder squeeze for the trampling the industry had taken in the last decade. Sometimes both. But Jonathan did neither when she said she was an editor for a music magazine.
“Really?” he said, clasping his hands together. “William always did have a soft spot for the creatives. There was that writer in high school, the artist when you were at Columbia, and Melody—sweet girl—wasn’t she an aspiring singer?”
“Which magazine?” Daniel asked from across the table. No one but Jonathan had spoken for so long that Hannah had nearly forgotten they had an audience. Will was still tense beside her. She rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly. It was going to take more than innuendos and old girlfriends to ruffle her feathers.
“Deafening Silence New York,” she said. “I’m the Long Island section editor. There’s a pretty big alt rock scene out here, believe it or not. Plus, everyone still loves Taking Back Sunday.”
Will laughed and turned his attention to Jon, who was nodding enthusiastically. “Uh-oh, you just said the magic words.”
“Jon’s a huge fan,” Madison said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not quite at the level of William’s obsession with Wilderness, but seriously, I’m starting to think it’s hereditary.”
“Hey now,” Daniel said, pointing his finger accusingly at Madison.
They bickered some more, taking jabs at each other and laughing. Based on Will’s grim description of these weekends, she’d expected a family that hated each other’s company. But the brothers seemed at ease with each other. Even Will, whose shoulders had been near his ears since they arrived, had relaxed back in his chair. She studied their alliances, which were constantly shifting. Will and Daniel always seemed to come back to each other against Jon. But then that made sense. Jon was four years older than Will, making him six years older than Daniel. There was a point when he’d probably wanted little to do with his younger brothers. It had happened with Stephanie once Hannah had moved up to middle school in fifth grade.
Intentional or not, Daniel had shifted the attention away from the two of them without even trying. He regaled the table with a blow-by-blow account of one of his recent trauma cases. Hannah wanted to hug him for knowing Will needed an out, even as Will cringed every time his brother used medical jargon. He started biting his hand when Daniel described inserting a chest tube. Binging ER was not in their future.
Renata arrived with the champagne after a too-short reprieve. The joking ceased. Will clutched her hand like his sanity depended on it. Jon sat back and slung an arm around Madison, who leaned into him easily. Daniel eyed his father warily.
Jonathan clinked his fork against his glass. “To Will and Hannah. May your marriage be much longer than your courtship and a shining example of what can happen when you follow your heart.”
From anyone else, that line might have been humorous and cutesy, but from Jonathan, it was throwing the gauntlet. He didn’t believe for one second that they were in love. Determination spread through her, taking root in the pit of her stomach, and from the shadowed look on Will’s face, he felt the same way—challenge accepted.
Chapter 21
Will
Try as they might, no one in the Thorne family was a night owl. Not even Daniel, despite a lifetime of overnight shifts ahead of him. Will wasn’t either, but this house never let him sleep. He liked to think that it was his mom’s way of letting him know she was there, choosing him to keep her company like he had as a surly kid and then a teenager terrified of losing his mother. He’d always stayed awake for her, listening to her stories and telling his own. She knew his greatest secrets, which as a fairly normal teenager hadn’t been that big. He knew her fears, regrets, and hopes for each of them.
Even lying in bed next to the girl he’d dreamed about for the last eight years, he felt the pull of the house. Hannah, though she must have been accustomed to sharing a bed at least some of the time, was a bed hog. It was adorable. Last night, she had tossed and turned, almost taking out his knee cap. Tonight, she was sprawled across the bed, her arm slung over Will’s torso, her head resting next to his shoulder. At any other house, on any other night, this would be heaven. But Hannah had done her telltale giggle by the time they returned to their room after accepting Jon’s offer for a nightcap, and this house and all its memories haunted him. At least he didn’t have to worry about anyone spilling the Madison beans—if there was anything his family understood, it was secrets and decorum. Not to mention he’d spent the entire day threatening Jon and Madison within an inch of their lives. And while his father hadn’t sought him out yet, Will knew Jonathan would keep the truth in his back pocket, a grenade waiting to be detonated.
Will sidled his way out of bed, pulling the comforter up over Hannah’s shoulders. She immediately flopped over, pulling it even tighter around herself. It would be nice to stay there and pretend that her cuddles were more than tipsy sleep habits, but he wouldn’t sleep for many hours. Maybe he wouldn’t sleep at all if he stayed here. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Hannah’s cheek, whispering a good night. She turned back over, her arm stretching to where he would’ve been if his restless mind had let him stay.
Will didn’t bother wandering the halls anymore. He knew where he had to go to settle his mind. He walked directly to the back of the house, down a long hall to an old sunroom that had been closed off and redesigned by his mother. All these years later, he couldn’t think of it as anything other than “Mom’s Room.” In the past few months—since Madison and Jon—he had finally come to understand why she loved it so.
The room had picture windows perfect for viewing the expanse of the yard and the woods beyond it but also a fireplace for the chilly nights. His mother designed it so she could go from reading in the natural sunlight to reading by the fi
relight. There was no television or phone, only a desk nestled into a nook opposite the picture windows and a small stereo she’d never let Jonathan upgrade. He turned the system on now, hearing the whir of the CD in its cradle. It was weird to think there were people who’d never known that sound. Wilderness Weekend filled the space, loud enough for him to relax into the melodies he’d long ago memorized but quiet enough that he wouldn’t bother anyone and no one would bother him.
He ran his finger across the desk—not a speck of dust. His mother had always kept her laptop and stack upon stack of papers there. She kept information about the various charities she and Jonathan contributed to and lists of key members and prominent clients—everything she needed as a wife of the wealthy. It sat empty now, all of her responsibilities long ago assigned to an assistant. Though the room was cleaned weekly, it was otherwise left untouched, a relic of another life.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Perfect. Madison.
“You don’t look happy to see me,” she said, shutting the door behind her.
Will touched his wedding band, kneading the metal as if willing Madison to turn around and forget they’d ever been a thing. Harsh had been his perpetual tone with Madison for months, but when he committed to Hannah, he made a promise to himself that he would go for simply standoffish, if not cold. He didn’t have to like Madison, but he was moving forward with his life, and he couldn’t properly do that if he was stuck in the past. That was why the next words out of his mouth weren’t “leave me alone.”
“Thank you for not saying anything to Hannah about us.” His voice stuck on every part of that sentence. He hadn’t thanked Madison for anything—not even passing the creamer at brunch—since everything happened. It had been a small act of defiance that made him feel the teensiest bit better, petty as it might have been.
“Of course. Though I don’t know how long you can get away with keeping that secret.” She paused, studying him. “You are planning on telling her, right?”
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