Back I Know You
Chapters (72)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. CONTENTS
  4. Rachel
  5. Casey
  6. Rachel
  7. Rachel
  8. Casey
  9. Rachel
  10. Rachel
  11. Casey
  12. Rachel
  13. Rachel
  14. Casey
  15. Rachel
  16. Rachel
  17. Casey
  18. Rachel
  19. Rachel
  20. Casey
  21. Rachel
  22. Rachel
  23. Casey
  24. Rachel
  25. Rachel
  26. Casey
  27. Rachel
  28. Rachel
  29. Casey
  30. Rachel
  31. Rachel
  32. Casey
  33. Rachel
  34. Casey
  35. Rachel
  36. Casey
  37. Rachel
  38. Casey
  39. Rachel
  40. Casey
  41. Rachel
  42. Casey
  43. Rachel
  44. Casey
  45. Rachel
  46. Casey
  47. Rachel
  48. Casey
  49. Rachel
  50. Casey
  51. Rachel
  52. Casey
  53. Rachel
  54. Casey
  55. Rachel
  56. Casey
  57. Rachel
  58. Casey
  59. Rachel
  60. Casey
  61. Rachel
  62. Casey
  63. Rachel
  64. Casey
  65. Rachel
  66. Casey
  67. Rachel
  68. Casey
  69. Rachel – two days later
  70. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
  71. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  72. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The ironic thing was, I had actually been happy right before I found it. Maybe happier than I had been in twenty years. I was walking in my favourite part of the woods, the cinnamon smell of leaves underfoot telling me autumn was on its way, with its promise of open fires and forgiving jumpers. I had Brandy on the lead, her small snuffling breaths the only sound, that constant strain on the collar that’s to be expected with a beagle. She had smelled something already, probably, but I hadn’t known that then. It was one of my best times of the day, just her and me, the trusting way she’d come to heel when I called, despite her searching nature. The faint trotting sound of her paws beside my boots.

I had felt pleasantly muzzy with sleep, looking forward to seeing Alex again that night. As I walked, I was thinking about his firm chest, the snarl of hair there I liked to tangle my fingers in, the warm smell of his neck. The way I’d palm my face to his back when he slept, holding on tight. He had stayed at mine two nights ago, and we’d woken up late, teasing each other about how slow we were to get out of bed. When I got up to shower, he’d pulled me back into bed, kissing me hard, starting things up again. He’d made me tea while I was in the bathroom, and I’d stood at the door in my dressing gown to wave him down the path (Audrey next door getting a good gawp), and he’d waved back at me as he reversed his van out.

It was going somewhere, wasn’t it? When I thought of it, I’d feel a pleasant lurch in the pit of my stomach, followed by a burst of worry. Things weren’t ideal, of course – and I would have thought about Anna here, I’m sure. She had been playing on my mind since our run-in the week before. She wasn’t supposed to know about Alex and me – too soon after their split, and likely to muddy the waters with the divorce, he felt. But somehow she had found out, and confronted me in town. She didn’t want him being with me, and was threatening to keep the house and stop him seeing his son if he didn’t end it, Alex said.