She wouldn’t. Ella was stubborn—and right now, hurt. She probably deleted any and all messages I sent.

With a few clicks on the website, I booked a flight. The only way to work this out—work this through—was in person. As quickly as possible.

My plane left in three hours.

I jumped from my chair and pulled out my suitcase.

5

Ella

Philip arrived next morning around 10:00 a.m., his bespoke suit covered in a dark charcoal cashmere coat that enhanced his eyes and pointed to his wealth and status—in that typical understated British way I missed. The United States was many things, but understated was not top of list. Philip handed me a posy of pink and purple sweet peas that I lifted to my nose, inhaling their fragrance with a small hum of pleasure.

“Thank you.” I raised my tired, gritty eyes to his. “I adore sweet peas.”

“I remember.” He removed his coat and settled it onto the sofa next to him. I’d taken the overstuffed club chair—a mistake with my growing belly, but also strategic. I didn’t want Jeremiah to see me cozying up next to another man. Not after Simon’s kiss with Monique. Keeping Jeremiah front in my mind wasn’t difficult. Like me, his world, his safety, was smashed to bits this week.

Speaking of, my son barreled into the room, brows pulled low to glower at Philip.

“You were with my mom yesterday.”

Philip stood and offered his hand. “I was.”

Jeremiah scowled, but his innate good manners overcame his frustration and he shook Philip’s hand.

“What do you want with my mom?” Jeremiah asked, pulling himself up so he met Philip’s eyes directly.

Philip’s lips quirked up in a hint of a smile as he took stock of my son.

“Jeremiah,” I said on a sigh.

“Don’t worry El-Bel.” My cheeks reddened at the endearment, one I hadn’t heard since Philip went off to uni and I stayed home to finish Year Twelve. “He’s just looking out for you.” He settled himself back on the stiff sofa cushion and patted the seat beside him. “I’m your mum’s friend, first and foremost.” He raised his eyebrow, waiting for me to deny the connection we used to share.

Jeremiah refused the offer of a seat and instead crossed his arms over his chest. “But you like her. Gramps said you two use to go out.”

“I dated Philip about twenty years ago, darling.” No reason to beat around the bush.

“Your mother was my first love.” Philip’s smile turned sad. “My only love outside my work, really.”

“Philip, I don’t—”

“But, you see, she’s smart, your mother. And she knew, even at seventeen, I wasn’t ever going to be the man she needed.”

Oh. My heart ached at his words. For a year and a half, Philip was my everything.