Chapters (66)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Chapter Forty-Five
- Chapter Forty-Six
- Chapter Forty-Seven
- Chapter Forty-Eight
- Chapter Forty-Nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-One
- Chapter Fifty-Two
- Chapter Fifty-Three
- Chapter Fifty-Four
- Chapter Fifty-Five
- Chapter Fifty-Six
- Chapter Fifty-Seven
- Chapter Fifty-Eight
- Chapter Fifty-Nine
- Chapter Sixty
- Chapter Sixty-One
- Chapter Sixty-Two
- Acknowledgments
Griffin chuckled. “Go easy, girl. I meant to tell you. Some things are going right for you.” He paused until he caught my full attention. “Henry and Lea both requested that Lea work at NOIR because Henry is doing a seven-course tasting menu and needed her expertise. But I can tell it is going to be a trend. Happy?”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Stop being a ‘glass half empty’ kind of girl. It’s not your style,” Griffin said, refusing me another drink. Before I could contradict him, my phone buzzed. It was Dexter.
“Great idea! I’ll work on it.”
We closed the restaurant and Griffin and I drove home together. We were both a little tired and wired at the same time.
“Would you like some hot chocolate?” he asked. It was cold and raining.
“And a fire?” I asked. He nodded and went into the kitchen. He carried mugs of hot chocolate. Memories crackled like the flames in the fire. So many.
“I love the rain,” I said.
“Really?” It was hard to believe we were still learning things about each other. He looked at me.
“I love the sound. It was raining the first night we were together.”
“It was?”
“Yes. It sounded so sweet. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and just listening to the rain. Occasionally it thundered. I looked over, and you were sleeping. I thought to myself that if I died that night, hearing the rain and being with you, I would be happy.”
“Really, Bae?” He smiled and touched my arm.
“Yes. Then I thought, if Daddy were to find us, he would probably kill you and you could join me sooner rather than later up in heaven.” We both laughed. But then I became serious. “Griffin?” I began a hard conversation.
“Hmm?” He settled in.
“I’m so sorry about the money for the stove. If I had known … I’m sorry you haven’t been to Italy.” My emotions frayed.
“Take that off your list, Bae. That was my choice to give you the money. That’s all on me. I could’ve said no.”
“And for the disaster that was my marriage.”
He smiled. “I could’ve expressed my feelings better.” The enormity of what all my actions had cost him bore down on me like the rain outside. We were quiet for a long time.