Page 34 of Red, White, and You

I step into my office, the familiar scent of leather filling my senses. The sun casts a golden glow through the windows, illuminating the polished steel and glass furniture and the stacks of files waiting for my attention. The room feels the same as it always has, but that ache in my soul grows heavier with each passing day. A giant, gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

If time heals all wounds, why isn’t it healingthiswound?

As I settle into my chair, my mind wanders back to those few precious days at Camp West. I find myself drifting back there more and more, no longer able to distract myself with work or lose myself to the job I once loved.

They never found Hargrave—or my files—the case of a lifetime disappearing with the man I was meant to defend.

And nothing has felt the same since.

No case has been as thrilling—or as dangerous.

But I know that Hargrave’s disappearance and the fallout after the robbery are only a small fraction of why life has lost its luster, why all the things I once enjoyed now feel… dull.

Lifefeels dull.

It’s been eight weeks since I last saw my ex-husband, and the ache in my chest has only grown stronger. The memoriesof our reunion play on a loop in my mind, the way his eyes sparkled with joy when he first saw me, the way his laughter echoed through the woods, and the way his touch sent shivers down my spine. We were like magnets drawn together, unable to resist the pull that fate had laid out for us.

But then reality came crashing back, as it always does. I had to return to New York, to my career, and to a life that suddenly feels empty without him. The city that once held so much promise now feels gray and lifeless. A city with over a million people, and I’m completely alone.

The demands of my job, which I once found thrilling, now seem trivial in comparison to what I left behind. What’s the fuckingpointwithout him?

It was one thing to convince myself that my memories of Brady West were tinted by the rose-colored glasses of youth. That the passing of time had distorted my version of events. For years I told myself that the fond memories of first love somehow morphed and distorted the truth and made him out to be more than he was.

But now I can’t lie to myself anymore. I can’t pretend I imagined how wonderful he was, or that the young girl I used to be turned him into something out of a Disney movie.

Because now I’ve seen him through the lens of adulthood.

I’ve loved him, touched him, tasted him—and he’s so muchmorethan perfect.

He’s perfectly madefor me.

And I’m miserable without him.

I’ve achieved everything I set out to and then some.

I have success. Wealth. Respect.Power.

Everything I ever dreamed of, I have.

Yet I am so dissatisfied, I can barely get out of bed some mornings.

I try to focus on the task at hand, flipping open the first file on my desk. It’s a complex corporate case, one that would have once excited me with its challenges and intricacies. But today, the words on the pages blur together, my mind unable to grasp their meaning. All I can think about is Brady, his smile, his touch, the way he made me feel alive again.

It’s like someone showed me the sun, let me bask in its warmth, then tucked me away in the shadows.

It’s a longing I can’t put into words. A physical ache inside my soul.

The phone rings, jolting me out of my reverie. I pick it up, my voice automatically slipping into professional mode. It’s a client, seeking advice on a property dispute. I listen intently, offering guidance and reassurance, but my mind wanders back to Brady, wondering what he’s doing at this very moment—and if he’s thinking of me too.

After the call ends, I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, and I can’t remember a thing we just discussed. Is this what my life has come to? A successful career, a prestigious law firm, and yet I’m incomplete without him.

Unable to stop myself, I finally do what I’ve held back from doing since I left him again.

I open my internet browser and search for Camp West, praying I’ll find even just a glimpse of the man who has my heart.

The first listing that pops up on the search results page is a sale announcement.

Gasping, I bring my hand to my mouth. “No.”

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