Cover

Dedication

For Vickie,

Thank you for watching over me.

Epigraph

“All human wisdom is contained in these two words—wait and hope.”

-Alexandre Dumas

The Count of Monte Cristo

One

Forgiveness

Melanie

We fell back into our old lives.

Laundry. Dishes. Cooking. Getting coffee at the café down the street.

But we barely talked to each other.

It seemed like neither one of us was ready to share the details of our separation. She had been a slave at the camp, witnessing unspeakable things, and I had been in a palace, living a life of luxury with expensive clothes and a butler.

My old clothes didn’t quite fit me the way they used to because Gilbert was right. I’d gained some weight. My old clothes were also cheap, so they didn’t fit me the way the custom designer clothing did. The guest bedroom was uncomfortable because the sheets were low quality—and there wasn’t a man next to me.

A few days later, we had breakfast together. I sat on the stool at the kitchen island while she stood across from me. Now that Raven was no longer at the camp, she ate whatever she wanted. Right now, she whipped up fluffy pancakes and fries.

I ate across from her and sipped my coffee, which had tones of pumpkin, nutmeg, and cinnamon. It was February now, but it still felt like December, the month when we were taken. My thoughts drifted to Fender often, wondering if he was sitting at his desk in his office, shouting at someone in French or just sitting there staring at the fire.

Or was he thinking about me?

Raven cut into her pancakes but didn’t take a bite. “You can talk to me…if you want to talk about it.”

I kept my eyes on my coffee, the dollop of cream sitting on top. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Those dark eyes were in my dreams. Sometimes, I felt big hands grip me around the waist, but it was just my imagination. There were times I smelled him, but I wondered if a bit of scent was still on me, even though I’d showered a couple times.

Raven dropped it.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I knew she wasn’t, but I let that go. “Are you going to see Magnus again?” He hadn’t returned to the apartment. They seemed to say farewell, and that was it.

“No.” She continued to eat.

“He helped you so many times…and that’s just it?”

“What else should happen?”

“It just seemed like there was something there…between you.”

She dipped her pancake into her pool of syrup and brought it to her mouth.

“Did you sleep with him?”

She sighed at the question but answered anyway. “Yeah, a couple times.”

“And you seem sad that he’s gone…”