Page 35 of Hunter

I pray it eases your pain. Does it, even a little?

I hope so. I hope you can finally breathe.

Yours Always,

Hunter xxx

Suddenly, it became clear why the date was so memorable. It was the day I felt a tiny bit of justice had been served on one of the men who ruined my future. Never did I think it would be by his son’s hand.

A quiet knock on my bedroom door signals a matching pink envelope being pushed beneath it. I rise to collect it, then return to my position on the bed, sitting against the headboard, knees curled beneath with Oso in my arms.

My Darling Isabella,this time, is written across the front. Inside, I find an invitation, the front decorated as if for a wedding with hand-painted pink roses. Behind it, there is the shadow of a bride and groom.

Ms. Isabella

Mr. Hunter Devane requests the honor of your company for dinner this evening.

Please attend the dining room at 20:00 dressed in the garments provided.

Come with me, Bella. Allow us one night to experience what should have been.

I will be waiting.

Always Yours,

Hunter xxx

A second knock on the door distracts me once more. I call for whoever it is to enter, caught between realizing what has been and the possibility of what is to come. Kasia appears, holding a dress bag across her arms. She smiles wide and nods as she enters my room.

“Good morning, Miss,” she says brightly, and I become acutely aware of how early in the day it still is. A lot has happened in a matter of hours, from finding Kasia and Hunter in the kitchen to reading his letters. “Mr. Devane asked that I drop this off for your dinner this evening.” She hangs the item up on a hook to one side of the room.

“What is it?” I ask dumbly.

“A dress, I presume, Miss. One Mr. Devane wishes you wear tonight.”

She disappears again as quickly as she arrives, muttering lists of tasks she must complete today to prepare for tonight. The door closes, and I clamber off the bed to investigate the package that’s been delivered.

As I lower the zipper, the most stunning white lace comes into view. Hastily, I lift down the dress, take it to the bed, and lay it out. There is no mistaking what it is, and memories flood back of the last time I wore it. Well, perhaps not this particular dress but one identical.

Lying on my bed is an exact replica of the dress I wore to get married, the one I walked down the aisle in. It’s still as beautiful as it was all those years ago—my perfect dress for entering the perfect marriage. Pinned to the tag is a small note; I take it from its resting place.

Please, Bella. Let me give you tonight.

Taken back by his letters, the dress, and the tornado of emotions inside, I close my eyes for a few minutes, attempting to center myself. It does little to quiet my confusion. After returning the dress to its hanging spot, I return to my bed and continue reading.

***

Darkness has fallen over the city outside. In our hidden mansion, you wouldn’t know London is a matter of meters away. My bedroom has a small balcony looking out into the garden. I pull open the door and step out into the cool night air. My robe is lined with fleece, and I tug it around me tighter to fight off the chill. As the water feature in the garden trickles merrily, I hear the dull sound of vehicles in the distance. The only hint of the busy city is beyond the gates.

Hunter’s words from dozens of letters he wrote swirl in my mind. His hope, yearning, and love are evident in every syllable. I have two hours to decide whether to attend dinner. He will know I’ve read the letters. He will not know my reaction. But today, my husband has laid bare how he feels for me and still does. If I go, I will be opening the door to possibility—though deep down, I know it is already wedged open, and attending tonight will blow it wide.

Taking one last deep breath of the winter air, I return inside to prepare to meet my husband for dinner.

Chapter seventeen

Hunter’s Residence, London

Hunter

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