“How was the fund-raiser at Violet’s school?” she asked, chewing a mouthful of tender cannelloni.

“Good,” Gabe said dismissively, taking a sip of wine. “I got you something.” He pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket and passed it to her.

Natalie accepted it with trembling hands. Gabe had gotten her gifts before—a book he’d read that he thought she’d like, clothing, or a bottle of prosecco—but this was different. This was jewelry. Expensive jewelry as indicated by the insignia on the box. Tentatively, she opened it.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, as she looked at the diamond-and-white-gold necklace nestled in a bed of satin. “It’s stunning.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

She touched the delicate chain, the oval pendant. “I don’t know what to say.” Her voice was husky with emotion. “No one’s ever given me anything this beautiful.”

“I wanted you to know how much these past few months have meant to me.”

It was the delivery, not the words themselves, that made her stomach plummet: cold, clipped, final. She looked up at Gabe—his tense jaw, his ice-blue eyes. She looked down at the necklace. It was not a gift. It was an omen. She snapped the velvet box closed.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re an amazing woman, Natalie. You’re gorgeous and smart and funny . . .”

“Are you dumping me?” Her voice was shrill, louder than she’d intended. She saw Gabe’s jaw clench.

“It’s my daughter,” he said, leaning toward her. “She’s going through a difficult time and she needs me.”

Nat’s voice trembled. “I’ve always respected your relationship with her.”

“I know you have. But . . . Violet wants to move in with me. Part-time at least. She and her mother aren’t getting along. She’s emotionally unstable. She’s been cutting herself. I—” His voice cracked. “I can’t go on seeing you.”

This couldn’t be happening. Gabe had assured her that what they had was real. He had found her an apartment so she could be close to him. His daughter was growing up, was going traveling or to college. They could finally think about a future.

“Maybe I could meet her?” Nat tried. “She doesn’t have to know about us. I could be her friend. I could talk to her and help her with her problems.” Without a trace of irony, she added, “I remember how hard it is to be her age.”

“I think a clean break is for the best.”

She was speechless. Blindsided. The room was swirling around her, and she felt sick to her stomach. “No,” was all she could say.

“Yes,” he said coolly. “We had an arrangement. And, now, that arrangement is over.”

Who was this man, so heartless and cold? She didn’t know him.

“It was more than that,” she said, tears pooling in her eyes, “you know it was.”

He didn’t respond but reached in his pocket, extracted a thick envelope. “I want you to have this.”

She looked at the white package next to her plate of cannelloni. He was buying her off. “I don’t want it.”