I glared at him in response to the reminder about Nick. “Come again?”
He shook dried Italian seasoning into the pot. “Hear me out. Do you remember Mia’s former bestie Demi D’Angelo?”
“Yeah, so?”
“I keep thinking of the nude photos of her and that photographer, Ernesto, that ended her career and her marriage. They never found who leaked them, but don’t you think it was kind of suspicious that Mia suddenly started dating Demi’s ex soon after?”
“I guess. But I’m still not following you.”
Miles set the lid on the pot of sauce, turned down the heat, and set the timer on his phone. Then he grabbed his own glass of wine and plopped down next to me. “Don’t you think it’s awfully convenient that Mia just happens to be in Oxford? What if this is the same situation as Demi’s but in miniature? Maybe she’s trying to break you and Alex up.”
I gave him the side-eye. “Wait, whoa. Now you’re blaming your girlfriend? Did Mirabelle force-feed you her crazy juice?”
Miles smirked. “I’m serious. I love Mia, I really do, but even you have to admit this whole thing is suspicious. How did it make the papers? It’s not like either one of them is married. You said yourself that he’s not exactly a paparazzo’s money shot. But Mia has resources and influence—and motive if her past behavior is any indication.”
“But it could all be a coincidence.”
“Maybe.” He fingered the rim of his glass. “But with Mia, where’s there’s smoke, there’s fire. Always has been. I’ve just chosen to ignore it before now.”
I repositioned myself so I was facing Miles. “But why would she do it? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Since when does Mia make sense? From what I’ve learned, she operates on one motivation––her ego. Her career and sex feed that. But she’s getting older––you’ve heard her talk about her recent struggles to get work––and I think she’s scared to death of losing what power she has. Gaining it has been behind all of her schemes to date. Now she has to fight to keep it––or in this case, take it from you. She wants what she can’t have, namely Alex.”
“Wow, you really do think she might be behind this, don’t you?”
He held my eyes. “Sadly, yes.”
“So, what does this mean for you and Mia?”
“If it’s true, we’re done. Even if it’s not, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Being back home with my mom put a lot of things in perspective for me. I thought a lot about how quickly life can change, whether someone dies or just walks out like my dad did. Seeing how happy my mom is with her new husband made me realize I’m ready for more. Mia has been fun, but she’ll never be stable. I think that’s what I need now.”
I could only stare at him with an open mouth. This was quite a change from the guy who used to put up with Mia bragging about the other people she’d slept while he was sitting right next to her.
In the kitchen, Miles’ phone chimed. I sprang up from the couch to go stir the sauce. Anything to move, to get away from the odd direction the night had taken. Could Mia really be so cruel? Was I that blind? And if so, what did that mean for me and Alex? The very thought that I could have ruined my chance with my soul mate because of her had me reaching for the wine bottle even though I knew I should have been reaching for the phone to call her. Tomorrow. I could feel her out tomorrow.
By the time I was finally able to catch up with Mia on Saturday, Miles’ theories seemed even more ridiculous than they had on Monday. Maybe he needed an excuse to leave Mia and that was why he had constructed that cockamamie story. That was what I was going with at least.
Over breakfast at a local café, I filled Mia in on everything that had taken place since we’d left for Des Moines. I knew she wasn’t going to be happy when I told her what happened—or didn’t—with Nick. But she didn’t berate me for being a prude or roll her eyes at my issues. All she asked was, “If you aren’t going to sleep with him, can I?”
I shook my head and closed my eyes, aghast that she would be so blatant. She’d met Nick nearly a year ago, and it was still eating at her that he’d rejected her—or so she claimed. I still had my doubts about what went down the night they met. As for now, they were two consenting adults, and if I had learned anything, it was that trying to reason with her was futile. “My permission has never stopped you before.”
“Good point. Speaking of lovers, there’s one more thing you should probably know.” She popped a piece of melon into her mouth, watching me carefully.
Mia’s expression betrayed guilt, an emotion I’d never seen on her before, and that turned my stomach to an acid pit. Was she finally going to admit to sleeping with Nick? Maybe she was asking permission for the act she’d already committed because she knew it was wrong. Or worse, what if she’d made another play for Alex?
“What?” I asked, but I so did not want to hear the answer.
“Regina is moving back to Chicago next month. She wasn’t happy in DC, so I called my father, and he offered to take her on at his firm in July when one of the lawyers retires. I thought you should be prepared in case you see the two of them together.”
“Well, aren’t you a one-woman job corps?” I swallowed hard, trying not to jump to conclusions. “So they are back together?”
Mia shrugged. “I’m not sure, but things seemed to be heading in that direction when I left.” She glanced at her phone. “Look, I hate to dump that on you and run, but I have to get to a fitting. Are you going to be okay?”
I nodded, and she tossed a wad of cash on the table to cover the bill before enveloping me in a hug. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
I followed her out, my appetite gone, heading back to my apartment. Once inside, I sank into my favorite chair, mulling over our strange conversation. I bowed my head, scrubbing my face with my hands. This was the last thing I needed. Chances were good Regina and Alex would get back together whether they intended to or not. I knew firsthand how hard it was to resist the pull of history and familiarity, especially in times of upheaval. Chicago was a big city, but even if Alex ever forgave me, she’d still be around every corner, a specter haunting our relationship—as she had been from the night we met. I just hadn’t realized it until now.
I was still staring off into space, trying to absorb this new information, when the doorbell rang. I thought maybe Mia had forgotten something, but when I opened the door, I was greeted by a FedEx employee holding an electronic pad.
“Annabeth Coe?” he asked.
“Yes.”
The box he held wasn’t big enough for flowers; it was only an airmail envelope. I wondered if he was going to hand me yet another condolence card from a friend or family member. I didn’t think I could handle any more expressions of sympathy.
The FedEx employee indicated that I should sign the pad, and after I did so, he handed me the envelope.
I closed the door and looked at the return address with one eye open, half hoping and half not that it was further communication from Alex. I sighed. The return address was in Iowa.
I ripped off the indicated strip, breaking the seal on the thin cardboard. Inside were two sheets of paper: the first cream stationery and the other smaller and lined. The cover letter bore the return address of my father’s lawyer, Barney Adamson. Leaning against the door, I read,
Dear Ms. Coe,
As you were not present at the reading of your father’s will, I enclose this letter per his strict instructions. You have my deepest sympathy for your loss.
I shuffled the pages so that the lined sheet was on top. My dad’s calligraphic handwriting was unmistakable. Even before I read a single word, my heart constricted, and I slid down the wall so that my knees were tucked against my chest. I heard his voice in my head as my eyes passed over the page, savoring his final words to me.
My little Kitten,
If you’re reading this, it means I’m no longer with you. I’m so sorry for leaving you behind, but this was God’s will. I kn
ow you’re sad, but try not to linger on it. I’m with God and my family now, and I’m happy. Life is full of beginnings and endings, and it was time for me to take the next step, one only God can ask us to make.
I’m not sure when you’ll receive this, but whenever it is, it will be too soon. There’s never enough time to say the things we wish, so even if you’re by my side when I go, I want to make sure you know a few things.
First, I love you so very much, baby girl. You have always been my pride and joy. I love both of you girls, but you are my shining star. I’ve always known you were destined for something special, and you’re well on your way. I’m so proud of the life you’ve built and the care you take with all your relationships. Keep on doing what you’re doing, and if you ever have doubts, just ask yourself what your ol’ dad would do, and I’ll find a way to give you an answer.
All I want is for you to be happy, so I’ll give you one last piece of fatherly advice: No matter what life throws at you, know that you are stronger. You can overcome anything. You’ll never, ever be alone. I’ll be right by your side for every moment just as I always have been.
Take care of your mom and sister for me. And remind your mom to water the hydrangeas when you talk to her each weekend. You know how she is. I love you.
Love, Dad
I looked up from the letter, blurry-eyed with tears. My chest was caving in again, and there was only one person I could share my grief with. I crawled over to the couch where I’d left my phone and called my sister.
“Mirabelle?” My voice was tiny, like that of a doll.
But she didn’t need any more than that. “You got Dad’s letter, didn’t you?”
I nodded, not realizing for a moment that she couldn’t see me. “Yeah.”
Her voice cracked. “I got one at the lawyer’s office. So did Mom and Chuck. I thought you’d have one too.”
“Oh, Mirabelle, I miss him so much,” I sobbed.
She let me cry my fill, staying on the line as a reassuring presence as I vented my grief. When I was spent, she sighed. “Even though reading the letter reopens the wound, I’m so glad to have a piece of Dad to hold on to.”
I wiped my eyes and sniffled. “Me too.”
“Chuck and I have been comparing notes. We can’t quite figure out when they were written.”
“Probably after his first heart attack.”
“Maybe.” There was a skeptical hint in her voice. “I don’t know. These feel more recent to me. Does yours say anything about Alex?”
I shuddered involuntarily at the mention of his name. “Not specifically. Why?”
“Never mind. I thought if it did, maybe he wrote them after Christmas.”
“Why Christmas?”
“Well, you two practically got engaged on Christmas Eve. I thought maybe… oh, I don’t know. Forget it.”
We were both silent for a while, absorbed in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but think how different things were now. But Mirabelle and I had been over that already. I didn’t need to rehash it. Besides, she had better things to do than sit on the phone with her lonely sister.
“Look, I won’t take up any more of your time. I just needed to talk to someone who understood. Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime. What are big sisters for? Seriously, call me anytime, day or night.”
“Thanks, Bella. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the counter with a sigh. Was it a full moon? Mercury in retrograde? There had to be something going on because this was a suckfest by any standards. First Mia asks my permission to sleep with Nick, then she drops the bomb about Regina moving here, and now this letter. Could this day get any worse?
Around noon, my Skype rang with a number from Oxford, and my heart seized. I’d jinxed myself by asking that question hadn’t I? I considered ignoring it—I really wasn’t in the mood for a showdown with Alex—but if the universe was determined to continue to rain on my day, it would find a way no matter what I did.
I pressed the answer button. To my surprise, Jolie’s smiling face greeted me. “Hey, Annabeth. I heard about your dad. I’m so sorry.”
I smiled slightly. “Thanks, Jolie. How did you know?”
“Alex told me. Apparently Laini told the dean, and he told Alex.”
“Ah. What’s up?”
“I found something I thought you’d want to see. That’s why I’m Skyping you instead of just calling. As part of one of my classes, I’m shadowing the public relations department. The other day, a bunch of us were going through photos from events over the last year to put together a donor report, and I found a few from the event where Alex and Regina were photographed. Now I can finally prove to you Alex is innocent, and you two can get back together like you belong. I can’t stand seeing him so miserable.”
I don’t know which touched me more, that Alex was outwardly unhappy enough about our break up that Jolie noticed or that she cared enough to get involved. It was intrusive but cute.
Jolie held up a glossy eight-by-ten showing a group of smiling people. “Here’s Exhibit A. According to the digital timestamp, it was taken at the same time as the supposed kissing photo. Ignore the people in the foreground. They aren’t important. Look over their left shoulders. That’s Mia and some designer.” She pointed at the right side of the picture. “Now, look over here. That’s Alex and Regina.”
I leaned toward the screen, squinting. The basic shapes and hair colors were right, but I couldn’t make out the faces. “Are you sure? I can’t really see anyone.”
Jolie lowered the photo and picked up her phone, thumbs flying over the keys. “Here, I’ll text it to you. You’ll be able to see it better that way.”
A few seconds later, my phone dinged. We were both quiet while I opened the file and zoomed in. “I’ll be damned. It is them.”
“And look at Mia. What do you see about where she’s standing?”
It look me a minute to realize what Jolie was talking about. “Her back is to them. Even if they did kiss, there’s no way she could have seen it.”
Jolie beamed. “Yep. And there’s more.” She clicked away at her phone again, and my phone dinged three times in quick succession.
I pulled up the photos one by one. “What am I looking at?”
“The first photo was taken right before the supposed kiss. You can see that they were talking. Now look at the second.”
I did. It was of Alex and Regina, taken from over one of her shoulders. She was brushing her hair back behind her right ear, leaning toward Alex, face rapt in concentration on what he was saying. His lips were less than an inch from her ear.
“It’s another angle on the supposed kiss. The time stamp matches to the minute. You can see that their lips are nowhere near one another.”
I stared at the photo, my heart growing cold with guilt. This was proof Alex had been telling the truth all along. I reluctantly minimized the photo.
“And the third?” I pulled it up. Alex and Regina were posing next to each other, heads together.
“This one was taken one minute later by the same person. Look at their lips.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Annabeth, you’re a woman. Think. She’s wearing dark lipstick. What would it look like if she’d just been kissed?”
I thought for a moment, remembering my own kisses with Alex before work in the mornings. I’d always had to reapply my lipstick. “Her lipstick isn’t smudged or faded.” My eyes traveled to Alex’s full lips, my breasts tingling in response. “And there’s no lipstick on his lips or face.” I zoomed in on his right hand, which was around Regina’s shoulder. His cuff was clean, as was the one at his left hand in his lap. “There’s no smudge on either of his wrists as though he’d tried to wipe it away either.” I set the phone down, turning back to Jolie. “You were right. I’m so sorry for not believing you. I’ve wronged you both.”
Jolie held up her hands. “Hey, no worries here
. I get where you were coming from. I’m the jealous type too.”
“But you seem to like me.”
She grinned. “Are you kidding? I love you. Alex is cute, but he’s old. No offense.”
I laughed. “None taken. So are you going to show these to Alex and Regina?”
“Already did. Them and the paper. Everything is cleared up. They’re going to print a retraction and apology in the morning.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. You are an angel, Jolie.”
“Hey, I’m just glad I could help. You and Alex are so cool together.”
“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”
“Um, yeah. He’s totally still in love with you.”
“I should call him. Thank you so much, Jolie. I wish I could hug you.”
“You’ll be able to in fall.”
My brow furrowed. “How? Has Alex decided to stay? And what does that have to do with me?”
“No, silly, I’m coming back to the States. I’m going to the University of Chicago. I’ve already told my dad that I intend to transfer unless Alex decides to stay here. Your National Poetry Month event cinched it. Dad said to tell you that your membership drive worked a little too well.”
I laughed. “Tell him I never intended to poach you. Are you sure this is what you want?”
She nodded resolutely. “Yes. Everyone’s always telling me how important mentors are as you find your way in life. For me, Alex is one, and I want to learn everything I can from him. I hope you’ll be another.”
“Of course. Ask me anything anytime.”
“Sweet. Thanks.”
“Is Alex around by any chance?”
Jolie shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since Friday afternoon. But if I hear from him, I’ll let him know to get in touch.”
“You’re a peach. And if you see Regina—”
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