Page 156 of All We Need

GainingAly’sforgiveness is going to be hard.Thiswas a walk in the park compared to earning back her trust.Forthe last twenty-four hours,I’vebeen haunted by her frayed expression.Shewasn’t even angry, which is worse.Somuch worse.

My mouth hangs open, about to beg my family for advice on how to win her back, when the front door opens.Weall turn to find a young guy holding a manila envelope staring at us impatiently.

“PatrickSadler?” he calls.

Pat stands, caution written over his face. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Uh-oh, he’s getting served,”Flosnickers.

“Oh, no.Ionly do that onTuesdays.Thisis a special delivery.Importantdocuments or something.”Heglances at the whitewash walls and fishing gear hanging from the walls. “Ijust go where they tell me.”

Patrick takes the envelope, signs the handheld tablet, then locks the front door.Hetears open the seal on his return to the table and pulls out a stack of papers.Hiseyes scan over the documents.Hisface flat, but right as he goes to sit, he halts, hovering above the chair.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Holyfucking shit.Thiscan’t be real.”

“What?!”Joscrambles to look over his shoulder, then her face mirrors his gobsmacked one. “Noway…”

“No way, what!?”Florencecries asIshout, “Stopbeing cryptic!”

Patrick blinks slowly at the paper clutched in his shaking hands.Myanxiety is about to blow through the roof. “Booth,Ithink you’re going to have to do more than grovel toAly.”

My chair scrapes against the floor. “Isshe okay?What’sgoing on?Fuck,Pat, just tell me.”

He shakes his head. “She’sfine.”Calmly, he places the paper flat on the table.Hepauses, then lets out an almighty belly laugh as he taps at the signature scrawled at the bottom of the page. “Alyis absolutely fine.She’salso no longer the owner ofOurPlace.”

A chorus of gasps echo around me, but the ability to speak has been robbed from me.

“Who is?”Grahamasks quietly.

Patrick’s gaze tracks around the table. “Weall are.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

alessandra

“Miss, did you hear me?”

“Huh?”Idrag my gaze from the small oval window. “I’msorry.Whatdid you say?

The blonde flight attendant smiles down at me patiently. “Iasked what you’d like to drink after takeoff?”

“Oh.Umm…water is fine.Thankyou.”Mybrain is too fuzzy to come up with anything better.Itwouldn’t taste right, anyway.Abitterness has lingered on my tongue sinceIleftTheNookyesterday.

My belongings were shipped back toNewYorktwo days ago, leaving me with a small suitcase, packed in a hurry becauseIcouldn’t stand to stay in that apartment for a second longer.Therewere reminders of him at every turn.Thekitchen counter whereI’dwatch him cook.Thesofa where he’d sit and build hisLEGO.Thebed we spent countless hours discovering new ways to pleasure the other.

I’d said goodbye toMartinbefore we left forTheNook.Wepromised to keep in touch andI’vealready penciled in a visit for after my trip toGermany.

I was barely keeping a tight seal on my emotions as it was,thenIplowed right intoJohanna,Quinn, andFlorenceon my frenzy out of the apartment.Justthinking about that interaction makes my heart heavy.

“I thoughtIsaw you sneak past,”Quinnteased, but her face dropped when she took in my bag. “You’releaving already?Ithought your flight wasn’t until this evening?”

“Oh,I’mcatching an earlier one.”Icouldn’t look at them, and stared solemnly at the bakery window, wishingIhad time for one last croissant.

Their suspicion was obvious.JohannaandQuinnkept their observations to themselves.Florence, not so much.

“I hope you’re better at lying when you’re pitching to a room full of suits.”Shefolded her arms and cocked a hip. “Whatdid he do?”

HebeingBooth,Ipresumed.

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