The car pulls up to the curb and stops in front of a sleek glass tower that rises into the night sky. I make my way up to my suite, the key card heavy in my hand.

Inside, the room is luxurious, the fabrics rich, but it feels impersonal, sterile—a far cry from the warmth of the home Amelia and I once dreamed of building together.

I stand at the window and stare out at the glittering city below. The Amelia I saw this evening, filled with pain and anger, is at odds with the woman I knew—the woman who vanished without a word. There’s more to this story, more I don’t understand. And I’m determined to get to the bottom of it.

Because one thing became crystal clear tonight: Amelia still has a hold on me—a pull I can’t ignore or deny. And I’m not ready to let go—not until I know why she left, why she looks at me with such anguish in her eyes.

I pour myself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. The burn of the alcohol offers a momentary distraction, but the questions remain, gnawing at me.

Setting the glass down, my resolve hardens. Tomorrow, I’ll dig. I’ll find the answers I need and won’t stop until I understand what went wrong and whether there’s any chance of setting things right.

Because this time, I refuse to let her slip away.

CHAPTER FIVE

AMELIA

The clock on the wall reads eleven thirty, its soft ticking reminding me of the late hour. Mrs. Jackson—our neighbor and a godsend of a babysitter—greets me with a warm smile, tiny wrinkles forming around her kind brown eyes.

“How was he tonight?” I whisper, careful to keep the peaceful quiet of the apartment intact.

Mrs. Jackson’s smile widens as she tugs her cardigan tighter. “An angel, as always.” Her voice is soothing, as warm as the soft glow of the lamps. “He fell asleep on the couch while I was reading to him. That boy of yours sure loves his books.”

Pride spreads through me, warming my chest like a gentle flame. “That he does. I swear he’s already picking out words, and he’s only two.”

Her eyes gleam as she pats my hand, the lines on her face deepening with tenderness. “He’s a bright one, no doubt about it. You’re doing a wonderful job with him, Amelia.”

Grateful, I give her the babysitting money. The bills in her hand feel inadequate compared to the peace of mind she gives me. “Thank you, Mrs. Jackson. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

She waves off my thanks and heads for the door, leaving the apartment in a serene hush.

I tiptoe down the hallway and push Dylan’s door open with care. He’s fast asleep, his chubby fingers clutching his beloved stuffed dinosaur. My heart swells with love so strong that it borders on being painful. I linger for a moment, savoring the sight of his calm, angelic face, the soft rise and fall of his tiny chest, before closing the door.

In my room, I peel off the elegant black dress and let it fall to the floor in a pool of inky fabric. Nathan’s cologne still clings to the material—a heady mix of sandalwood and citrus. The memories of earlier flood back: the heat of his skin, the urgency of his touch, the way his body pressed against mine. It feels like no time has passed.

I shake off the thoughts, change into soft yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt, and head to the living room.

Jules is already curled up on the couch with a second glass of wine. She raises it toward me, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as I settle into the cushions beside her.

“Spill,” she says, offering the glass. “You said you would after we got home.”

I take it with a sigh, the leather creaking beneath me as I settle in. “We had sex.”

Jules sputters on her Shiraz. “You what?” She stares at me in shock. “Oh, my God. You slut!”

Her teasing tone barely conceals the concern behind her words. I groan and bury my face in my hands as heat rushes to my cheeks. “I don’t know what happened. We glared at each other one minute, and the next…”

I trail off, my mind flashing back to how Nathan’s hands felt on my skin, his lips claiming mine, and the way he lifted me as if I weighed nothing. The intensity and raw passion had swept me away and left me reeling.

She nudges me with her foot, a knowing grin tugging at her lips. “That’s what happens when you don’t get any for years. Your body takes over.”

She’s right. I’ve avoided every setup she’s tried, choosing evenings with Dylan over awkward dates and unwanted expectations. But Nathan…the pull between us is as powerful now as it was all those years ago.

“We didn’t use protection.” The horror of my realization crashes over me. I tremble as I set the wineglass down, the crystal clinking against the coffee table.

Her smile fades. She reaches out and squeezes my arm, her grip reassuring. “Hey, don’t panic yet. I’m sure one time––”

I shoot her a look of disbelief. How could I have been so careless? There’s no excuse.