He stretched his arm across the back of the couch. The unease he’d first felt over returning to the apartment dissipated the longer he was there with Hannah. Madison no longer hid in every corner. A story didn’t unfold from simple objects. Still, it would never be solely his, and he would be happy to give it up at the end of his lease. Despite her admiration of the apartment, he could tell Hannah didn’t love being here either, particularly after the way she’d eyed the bed last night as if she wished to set it on fire.
Hannah rested her head against his shoulder—perhaps that meant no more questions. He relaxed for the moment. They were almost through Garden State, a movie Will hadn’t watched in nearly a decade and that Hannah swore by. Somehow that didn’t surprise him. On-screen, Zach Braff, Natalie Portman, and Peter Sarsgaard stared down a landfill and lamented the poor guy who had to argue for the right to destroy a natural phenomenon.
That had literally been his job for years. Fighting for the right to build hotels wherever they wanted. Reading the reports, advising on the costs, ignoring the hole the job was ripping through his soul every time he read about relocating the flora and fauna. But not anymore.
“I quit Wellington Thorne yesterday.”
She bolted upright, her eyes panicked. “You can’t.”
“It’s done.” The words terrified him. But for the first time in his life, he felt the chain that bound him to the Thorne name and all that came with it loosening, breaking. He could be free with a few more strategic tugs on that poor, deteriorating connection. The thought sent a spike of panic through him, as it had yesterday in Grayson’s office when his uncle had looked at him squarely and asked if he knew what he was doing.
“What will do you now?” Hannah asked, surprise and concern mixing in her voice.
He took her hand in his and met her gaze. “Kiss you.”
“Will,” she said, staving off his advances and scooting to the far end of the couch.
He laughed. “I’m still William Thorne, one of the best corporate environmental lawyers in New York, Wellington Thorne or no Wellington Thorne. I’ll make some calls. With any luck, I’ll soon be on the partner track at a small firm, still practicing corporate environmental law.”
Hannah nodded as if that sounded exactly right. He loved that she knew it did.
“I have some news, too, actually,” she said, a tentative smile on her face. “We got an exclusive for the inaugural issue.”
Will didn’t even have to go through the list of Boston-based artists. There was only one who would have Hannah unnerved, but he would play along because this was her moment. “Really? Who?”
“I’m interviewing Leonard Nulty next week,” she said, a giant smile brightening her features. “When I think about it, I can’t even breathe.”
His wife had arrived. Editor in chief of Deafening Silence Boston and an exclusive with the illusive Leonard Nulty himself. “Congratulations.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t really do anything.”
“But you will.” He squeezed one of the feet resting in his lap, the only part of her he could easily reach. “Maybe I should make some calls to firms in Boston?”
It was a Hail Mary. They were barely over their argument and in no place to talk about big moves. Without the legally binding marriage between them, Hannah might not have come back, Rule 5 be damned. It tethered them to this relationship as much as their feelings did. But if she’d have him, he wanted her to know he was all in.
“Boston is a beautiful city, but I don’t think I could live there indefinitely. I love living in New York. I loved Queens—a city outside the city, you know? But I’ve always pictured myself in a brownstone in Murray Hill. Or maybe in Long Island City with a view of the river?”
“So you are, in fact, a New Yorker?”
“I guess so,” she said with a small, contented smile. “Not that I could ever afford to live in either of those areas.”
“If we hock your engagement ring, we could piece together a down payment.” Murray Hill and Long Island City were less expensive than the places he’d lived before, but Hannah wasn’t exactly making bank at Deafening. Maybe he could make it happen—he would have to do something since he would officially be homeless in the next few months.
“Was... was it supposed to be Madison’s?” Her voice stuck on the name.
Will stopped the mental calculations in his head and caught up to her line of thinking. “No. I sold Madison’s ring and bought this much bigger one when I decided I was going to initiate the pact. I figured the bigger the better. It might sway your decision.”
“It didn’t. Actually...” She paused. “The ring itself didn’t entice me to marry you, but the fact that you had a ring—and quite a large one—made me think you were serious about the whole thing.”
He glanced down at her left hand. Her wedding band adorned her ring finger with its simple, classic perfection. “Is that why you hardly ever wear it? Because you thought it was meant for someone else?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Partly... yes. After I had the wedding band, which I knew you bought for me specifically—and it’s so perfect—pairing it with the engagement ring made it feel more fake. And then as we became us, it was this reminder that you were supposed to marry someone else.”
“Maybe I wasn’t,” he said, leaning in until their foreheads touched. He tangled his fingers in her hair. “Maybe that’s the whole point to all of this. Maybe I was meant to be with you.”
“You’re such a hopeless romantic.”
“You love it,” he said, sitting back against the couch.
Hannah smiled, but her mind seemed elsewhere. She worried at her bottom lip. “I’ve been thinking.”
“A dangerous pastime.”
She rolled her eyes but played along. “I know.”
She paused and then took a breath as if deciding she was going through with whatever she had to say. He steeled himself for her next words.
“I think you should tell Jon what happened,” she said, meeting his gaze. “You keep things from people to try and protect them, but they still get hurt. I got hurt.”
Will opened his mouth to tell her about the argument with Jon, but she put a finger to his lips to keep him quiet.
“And the thing is, I don’t know why you didn’t tell me. I would’ve married you anyway. I could’ve helped you deal with the fallout instead of—”
“Jon knows,” he said, cutting her off. He motioned to the bruise on his face. Hannah’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. He kissed her cheek, the first time his lips came in contact with her since before Madison’s confession. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It was the last thing I wanted.”
“I know,” she said, her eyes open and questioning.
He kissed her then on the lips, hesitantly, afraid she might reject him. But she deepened the kiss, parting his lips with her own. He pulled her onto his lap, his hands sliding up the back of her top. She leaned into him before pulling his shirt off. With each caress, he felt himself heal. Hannah’s tears flavored their kisses, and he knew she was healing too. And in the final moments, with his name on Hannah’s lips, his heart sewed itself back together.
Chapter 46
Hannah
Hannah sat down on the couch with a steaming cup of coffee and her laptop. Will had gone out to pick up breakfast. She’d asked to stay behind to do some work. The thought of being alone in this apartment that showed the reality of Madison and Will’s past wasn’t one she relished, but she needed a Will-free moment. Hannah wasn’t naïve enough to think that one argument and make-up sex was going to fix their relationship. That would take time, which was a luxury they didn’t currently have. She was due back in Boston the next morning to cover a show the following night. Regardless, Hannah couldn’t deny the tug on her heart—she wanted to be with Will. They needed to adjust to their new normal, to rediscover exactly who they were—in general and to each other—starting by getting through the next few weeks apart. It pained her to thin
k about leaving Will again, but she wouldn’t ask him to come. He needed to stay in New York to put his life back together.
She couldn’t regret her rash decision to relocate—she was interviewing Leonard Nulty after all. But shit—it messed everything up. The assignment would most likely be shorter than expected with the Nulty exclusive since they wouldn’t need as much padding. Even so, she wasn’t enjoying the experience as much as she expected to. She had taken for granted sharing the ups and downs of her life with Kate every day, of Will waiting up no matter what time she rolled in. Hannah had her dream job, but at what cost?
Boston wasn’t pressing pause on a relationship. Madison’s revelation had threatened more than a break-up. Divorce. She repeated it in her head. Divorce. That’s what they were facing if this didn’t work out. And not because of a fight or a misunderstanding or because the year on their pact was up. It would be because they didn’t put in the effort to make things right. There would be no coming back from that.
For the first time, Hannah appreciated what it was Riley did every day for the last five years—how she balanced everything, never letting any of the responsibilities she juggled fall. Hannah could do this. She would channel Riley and learn how to do it all—fix her marriage and kick ass at managing this launch. She would live the dream and keep her life in New York. Somehow.
A ding from her computer brought her attention back to her task. Journalists didn’t get weekends, and her inbox was brimming with messages.
The message was from Riley. Subject: Boston Things.
Well, then.
Hannah scrolled through the large email chain Riley had forwarded—because it wasn’t awkward reading through other people’s emails. Hannah scrolled through the information about her schedule with Leonard. He had his photo shoot in the morning, and they would do their interview after lunch. She made a mental note to bring wine. At least it was a short rider. She continued scanning the email. Boring, boring, amusing, boring, bor—
Hannah reread the next line: Everything should be charged to the Boston account. Use code 5479-JT.
She stared at the words on the screen. No charge code she’d ever used had had “JT” attached to it. NYC, BK, QN, SI, LI, and BX sure, but those were obviously the boroughs. JT. Her heart hammered as her mind wrapped itself around those initials. Jonathan Thorne? It made perfect sense. There’d been a large anonymous donation right after she and Will had wowed all of Jonathan’s party guests. They had convinced everyone they were in love, and Jonathan had needed to make a move. She closed her eyes, willing away the knowledge that Jonathan Thorne had funded the Boston edition.
Riley, her mentor and friend, hadn’t told her. Had that been why she’d gotten the call? Hannah was the most senior person at Deafening under Riley, not in title or responsibility but in time on staff. She’d been there since day twenty-three. But Riley had never mentioned growth like this before. Hannah had never considered that she was being groomed to run another edition of the magazine. She was always going to be a step under Riley. When she’d been offered the position, it had made staying at Deafening worth it. It had been the big payoff. What if it hadn’t been about her at all? Hannah couldn’t believe that. Riley wouldn’t do that—not to her. But what if she had?
Hannah picked up her phone. She had no idea if she planned to call Will, Riley, or Jonathan himself, but she needed to do something with this information. Maybe she shouldn’t start with Will. Things were so tenuous between them, and the fact that his father was still meddling in his life would break him. At the same time, she couldn’t keep it from him. The lies were getting them nowhere.
A key sounded in the door. Hannah looked over her shoulder to see if Will needed help with the bags. He always over-bought when on his own. The blood froze in her veins at the sight of Madison in the entryway, a set of keys dangling from her left hand. She still had keys.
“What are you doing here?” Hannah asked, even though the answer was written all over Madison’s ridiculously calm face.
“I came to see how William was doing,” she said plainly.
“He’s fine, no thanks to you.” Hannah stood up and faced Madison head-on. She had gotten the full story about Will and Jon’s fight the night before. The depths that Madison stooped to were beyond Hannah’s understanding.
Madison didn’t react, except to shrug out of her coat. “I’m surprised you came back.”
“He’s my husband,” Hannah said incredulously. “I was never permanently gone.”
Madison pulled a face. “I think maybe you were.”
“Get out,” Hannah said, anger coursing through her.
“You can’t kick me out of my apartment.” Madison stepped further inside and dropped her coat on a nearby chair. The door was still open behind her, but it was clear she wasn’t planning on honoring Hannah’s demand.
“It’s Will’s apartment.” Hannah walked around the couch, effectively blocking Madison from gaining more ground.
Madison held up her hands placatingly. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“You attempted to destroy my marriage. So yes, it has to be like this.”
“I’m done apologizing,” Madison said. “I called you dozens of times. I begged and cried and tried to explain.”
God, Hannah didn’t want to fight. Yet oh, how she wanted to. She’d avoided Madison, but here she was—front and center—asking for it. Except all the words had fled from Hannah’s mind. All the pretend conversations and mean things she’d planned to say faded away. “Have you tried apologizing to your fiancé? Or to Will? Don’t you think you’ve messed their lives up enough? To go back and do more damage—”
“Why does it matter?” Madison’s voice rose, and the words came out almost as a screech. “He picked you. He married you.”
“This isn’t just about Will! You betrayed me! We were friends. I let you into my life, and you tried to steal my husband.”
“I loved him first,” she said, her voice quiet.
It was that simple to Madison. Hannah was expendable—Will, apparently, was not. Hannah shook her head. “That doesn’t mean you have permission to mess up his life.”
“Me?” Madison’s face turned cruel. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you think I didn’t know about you? Hannah from college—the one who got away.” Madison made a disgusted face. “The pinnacle that every other woman was held to. You messed up Will’s life long before I came around. And then you marry him when he’s at his lowest. Maybe if you’d taken more than two seconds before hopping into his bed, you might have known who I was from the beginning, and maybe you would’ve thought twice about making a complicated situation worse.”
“It shouldn’t have been complicated!” Hannah said. “You made your choice the moment you kissed Jon. Leave Will alone. Go be a Thorne or don’t, but stop trying to act like any of this is hard for you. You destroyed a family, Madison.”
“Jon kissed me,” she said plainly.
“And you kissed him back. You lied to both of them—cheated on both of them. You pretended to be my friend.” Hannah shook with frustration. How did Madison not feel the magnitude of what she’d done—to the Thornes and to Hannah? “Do you even remember how to tell the truth?”
Madison’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “How’s this for truth? You’re in love with a boy who doesn’t exist anymore. And when you realize the man you married isn’t your precious college crush, you’ll leave him.”
Hannah shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere. I love Will, and he loves me, here and now. And even if that weren’t true, he will never love you again.”
“I want to see him,” Madison said, her voice a low growl.
“Madison?” Will stood in the doorway, a reusable shopping bag in each hand. He looked from Madison to Hannah and back again, his face paling. “What are you doing here?”
She had the audacity to look hurt as she picked up her coat. “I wanted to make sure
Jon didn’t mangle your face.” She reached out as if to touch Will’s bruise.
Will backed away from her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Madison frowned as her gaze, blazing with anger, passed between the two of them. She started to respond, but Will cut her off.
“I’ll need that key back,” he said, holding out his hand.
Hannah waited for the backlash, but Madison simply unhooked the key from the ring and shoved it into Will’s hand. She brushed past him and turned to look at them when she reached the threshold. The look she fixed on Hannah was one of such hatred that Hannah wondered how Madison had ever appeared to be her friend.
“Madison,” Hannah said, her anger reaching the tipping point. “I’ll get the RSVP in the mail for your records, but we won’t be able to make the wedding.”
Will shut the door before Madison could reply. From inside the apartment, they could hear her stomping down the stairs.
Rage ran through Hannah’s veins down to her toes and up to her fingers. She wanted to throw something. She wanted to chase after Madison and shake some sense into her. The affable woman she’d known this whole time was gone. Hannah counted to ten in her head before loosening her grip on her cell phone—the outline of it was scored into her palm.
“I’m sorry,” Will said, pulling Hannah into an embrace. “I didn’t realize she still had a key.”
“I’m fine, Will. Really.”
“You’re crying.”
Hannah stepped away from his embrace, swiping at her tears. “I’m going to take a walk.”
Chapter 47
Hannah
Thirty minutes and one impromptu jog through downtown later, Hannah found herself in front of Will’s building again. Her head was clearer, and she’d shaken off the specter of Will and Madison’s past. She had to tell Will about his father’s investment. He’d already freed himself from Wellington Thorne and its shackles to his family. Maybe the news wouldn’t hit as hard as it might’ve two weeks ago.
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