Chapter 1 - The Man in Seat 2B
Five years was long enough for Cassidy Monroe to learn that some ghosts did not haunt houses.
They booked first-class tickets.
She had just settled into her window seat on the morning flight from New York to Atlanta when a shadow stopped beside her. Cassidy was reaching into her handbag for the novel she had bought at the airport when a familiar voice froze her hand.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
She knew that voice.
For one irrational second, Cassidy considered keeping her eyes lowered. Perhaps if she did not look up, the past would remain exactly where she had worked so hard to put it.
Then she lifted her gaze.
Declan Hawthorne stood in the aisle.
Five years had changed surprisingly little about him.
His dark hair was still carefully imperfect, the expensive kind of careless that probably required twenty minutes in front of a mirror. His charcoal suit fit perfectly across his shoulders. A silver watch flashed beneath his cuff, and his mouth carried the same faint smirk Cassidy remembered from dinners where he had explained her own career to people as though it were an amusing hobby.
Only his eyes looked different.
Harder, perhaps.
Or maybe Cassidy had simply stopped being afraid of them.
“Hello, Declan.”
His eyebrows rose.
He looked at the number above her seat and then at his boarding pass.
“You’re sitting here?”
“That appears to be how assigned seating works.”
The smirk widened.
For a moment Cassidy was twenty-eight again, standing in the kitchen of their enormous Buckhead house while Declan told her that leaving him would be the greatest mistake of her life.
Then she remembered who she was now.
She returned to her book.
Declan placed his briefcase overhead and sat beside her.
His eyes traveled over Cassidy’s cream sweater, fitted trousers, and simple gold earrings.
“First class,” he murmured.
Cassidy turned a page.
“Yes.”
“Someone upgrade you?”
There it was.
Five years, and he still knew exactly how to make an insult sound like a casual question.
“No. I bought the ticket.”
“Good for you.”
Cassidy almost smiled.
Declan had always believed money was a scoreboard.
When they married, he had inherited part of Hawthorne Capital and was already wealthier than most people Cassidy knew. He had loved telling her she could stop working.
At first it sounded romantic.
Then it became a command.
Environmental consulting had been Cassidy’s passion long before she met Declan. She had spent years earning degrees and building experience, but Declan had treated her work like something adorable she would eventually outgrow.
She never did.
That had been one of many things he could not forgive.
The aircraft began taxiing.
Cassidy stared through the window.
“You look different,” Declan said.
“So do you.”
“I meant good.”
“So did I.”
That silenced him for almost three minutes.
Then he tried again.
“What are you doing these days?”
“Working.”
“Still consulting?”
“I own the company now.”
His expression flickered.
It happened so quickly someone who had not once been married to him might have missed it.
Cassidy did not.
“You own it?”
“Yes.”
“How big?”
“Big enough.”
He laughed softly.
“I always admired your optimism.”
Cassidy finally looked at him.
“And I always admired your ability to disguise condescension as concern.”
His smile disappeared.
For the next hour, Declan mostly left her alone.
Mostly.
Cassidy noticed him glancing at her whenever he thought she was reading.
She knew what he was trying to determine.
Was she happy?
Had she struggled?
Had leaving him destroyed her?
Five years earlier, Declan had been absolutely certain it would.
“You’ll come back,” he had told her on the night she packed her suitcase.
Cassidy still remembered standing at the top of the staircase while rain struck the tall windows behind him.
“You think the world is waiting for you?” Declan had demanded. “You have no idea what life costs.”
She had gripped the suitcase handle.
“I know exactly what staying here costs.”
He had laughed then.
Actually laughed.
“Six months, Cassidy.”
“What?”
“That’s how long you’ll last.”
She had walked out without answering.
Six months became five years.
Declan did not know what those five years had contained.
He did not know about the tiny apartment where Cassidy had slept on a mattress because she could not afford a bed frame.
He did not know about morning sickness during client meetings.
He did not know about three bassinets lined against a wall.
He did not know about nights when all three babies cried and Cassidy sat on the kitchen floor crying with them.
He did not know about the first contract she landed while holding Grace against her shoulder.
Or the second office.
Or the first employee.
Or the thirty-seventh.
Most importantly, Declan did not know about Lily, Emma, and Grace.
Cassidy intended to keep it that way for another few hours.
After that?
She had never seriously considered the question.
Atlanta appeared beneath them.
Cassidy closed her book.
Declan leaned toward her.
“You know, Cassidy, I always wondered something.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Do you regret leaving?”
She looked at him.
He expected hesitation.
Maybe sadness.
Perhaps he wanted her to admit she still thought about him.
Cassidy gave him one word.
“No.”
His expression tightened.
After landing, Cassidy walked through the terminal with her suitcase rolling behind her.
Declan somehow remained nearby.
He talked about properties, investments and a company he had recently acquired.
Cassidy answered with polite sounds.
Then the automatic doors opened.
Warm Atlanta air touched her face.
A black SUV approached the curb.
Cassidy smiled immediately.
The rear passenger door opened before the vehicle had completely settled.
Three tiny figures appeared.
Pink.
Lavender.
Blue.
“Mommy!”
Cassidy dropped her bag.
Three four-year-old girls came racing toward her.
She crouched.
They crashed into her arms in a storm of curls, ribbons and laughter.
“Mommy!”
“You came back!”
“I missed you!”
Cassidy laughed as she wrapped both arms around them.
“I missed you too.”
Lily kissed her cheek.
Emma immediately began telling her something about pancakes.
Grace squeezed her neck.
For several seconds Cassidy forgot everything else.
Then she noticed the silence behind her.
She looked over Grace’s shoulder.
Declan had stopped.
The smugness was gone.
He stared at the girls.
At Lily first.
Then Emma.
Then Grace.
His face slowly lost its color.
Cassidy stood.
The girls remained around her legs.
Declan took one step closer.
His eyes moved between their faces.
Their dark lashes.
Their dimples.
Their eyes.
His eyes.
“How old are they?”
Cassidy’s heart beat once, hard.
“Four.”
Declan stopped breathing.
“Four?”
“Yes.”
She watched him calculate.
Five years since the divorce.
Three four-year-old daughters.
And one final night he had apparently forgotten.
Until now.
“Cassidy…”
She reached for her suitcase.
Declan stepped closer.
“Wait.”
His voice no longer contained arrogance.
It contained fear.
“When are their birthdays?”
Cassidy looked directly into the face of the man who once believed he knew everything about her.
May you like
For the first time in five years, Declan Hawthorne understood that he knew almost nothing.
And Cassidy realized the secret she had protected for four years had just run across an airport sidewalk wearing three different colored dresses.
