Since our fight, Val had been a little colder, but honestly, I’d deserved it. I’d planned to pamper her like a princess once she got back from the vineyard and we could be alone, to show her just how important she was to me.

She hadn’t changed her mind, had she? I moved to the living room and poured myself a glass of bourbon. I had told her to take the time and think if she was happy with the fact that I was a package deal, if that was what she wanted.

Had she discovered she wasn’t happy after all? Had she decided she didn’t want the girls and me?

It seemed impossible. I remembered her fury the night I’d suggested it, the indignation in her voice when she told me she loved the girls. But maybe once she’d stepped away from the grind of the daily life and had some time to reflect, things became clearer.

I was still standing at the small bar, with my back to the living room, not wanting to see how empty the apartment was. I didn’t want to register what it could possibly mean, because I couldn’t handle it.

If Val wanted to end things, there were better ways to do it than just packing up her things and leaving. What was I supposed to tell the girls? Or was she going to do us the courtesy of sitting down with us and explaining everything? I didn’t know which was worse. Hearing from her mouth that she wanted to bow out, or living with the uncertainty.

The girls loved Val. They counted on her. God damn it, I loved Val.

After giving up on love, I’d found her. And she’d become such an integral part of my life, of me, that I wasn’t even sure who I was without her anymore.

“Carter Sloane strikes again,” Zachary exclaimed the next morning. I wasn’t in the mood to have any sort of conversation with him. I’d been up all night, unable to set my fears straight.

We were on a conference call because I’d announced I was working from home.

“I should have trusted your gut. The Connor case was very good for us.”

Zachary was reading the newest press coverage about the firm. I didn’t bother faking interest. I wanted to get off this call as soon as possible. My head wasn’t in the game today.

“By the way, we received a request for representation from... guess who?” With pride in his voice, he named a Fortune 500 company.

Right now, I didn’t give a damn about that either, which was saying something, since I’d wanted an account like that since we opened the firm.

“That’s good to hear,” I said finally.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s just not a great day.”