Chapter 31
Maddie
“Oh shit.” Nate types furiously on his phone.
“What’s wrong?”
“My flight’s been postponed until tomorrow.” He shakes his head, irritation flashing across his face. “This is why I usually fly private.”
I glare at the side of his head. “You’re kidding me right now? The lie-flat, first-class ticket wasn’t good enough for you?”
“Don’t make me sound like a snob.”
“Okay,” I say sweetly, rolling my eyes. “I won’t.”
“I’m serious,” he insists. “It’s not about the seat. It’s about convenience. If this were my plane, we’d already be figuring out a solution.”
“Mm-hmm. So why was it canceled?”
“Mechanical issues with the incoming flight. Mine’s pushed to tomorrow. I leave at eight.”
I lean my head against his shoulder, smiling. “Selfishly, I love that. We get a longer date.”
“Unfortunately, it means the opposite.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry, Mads. Missing tomorrow in London means I need to get on a call with Amara and go over everything we would have prepared for in person.”
“Oh.” Disappointment tugs at me, but I push it aside when I see the regret on his face. This isn’t his fault. “It’s fine. You should go. Do you mind if I walk around a bit longer? I haven’t been to Central Park in ages, and I’m feeling…close to Camila right now.”
His gaze sharpens, studying me. “You’re feeling okay?”
“My stomach’s fine now,” I say easily. “Probably just that time of the month. Don’t worry.”
I’ve never been regular enough to track it anyway.
“How long will you be?” he asks. “I’ll have the driver wait and bring you home.”
“I’ll just take a pet Uber.”
“Madeline.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “Don’t fight me on this.”
“You’re infuriating. How are you getting home?”
“Subway.”
I bite my cheek to hide my grin. “Wow. Slummin’ it.”
He knows I’m joking. Nate and even Leo, who is more high-maintenance than all of us put together, take the subway regularly.
When you have to bounce around from one job site to another, it would take forever in traffic.
I check my phone. “Have him meet me in about forty-five minutes?”
“You got it.” He leans in to kiss my lips…then hesitates and shifts, pressing it to my forehead instead.
“Seriously?”
“Just in case you really are sick.”
“You had your tongue down my throat for half the day,” I deadpan. “I think the damage is done.”
He shrugs. “You never know.” Then he smiles. “Love you. And you.” He bends down and kisses Skye square on the mouth.
“She just licked her private parts,” I say flatly.
He laughs as he backs away. “She’s my daughter. It’s different.”
He waves one last time and heads off, disappearing into the crowd.
After thirty minutes of wandering, getting lost in my thoughts, I turn the corner, and the back of my neck prickles. A chill skims down my spine, and I feel it again…the unmistakable feeling of being watched.
I turn, looking over my shoulder, scanning the park, but as usual, no one stands out.
I don’t know if it’s my imagination spiraling…or something real.
Either way, it’s starting to seriously freak me out.
Suddenly, Skye stops short.
I’m not paying attention, too caught up in my thoughts, as I trip, crashing down onto my knee.
Pain flares bright and sharp as I hit the ground.
Shit.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” A woman is haphazardly running toward us, apologizing.
I follow her gaze and immediately understand why Skye stopped so abruptly.
A little boy is barreling straight toward her.
“It’s okay!” I call out quickly. “She loves kids.”
Relief floods her face as she helps me to my feet, then instinctively crouches to brush the dirt from my knee. The intimacy of it makes me laugh.
She freezes, hand hovering. “Sorry. It’s probably wildly inappropriate, touching a stranger’s knee. And I’m sorry about my son. He doesn’t quite understand the rules about running up to unfamiliar dogs yet.” She pauses, her eyes suddenly widening. “Oh.”
“What?” I ask.
She shakes her head slowly, disbelief written all over her face. “That’s the first time I’ve ever called him my son.”
I glance between her and the little boy, who looks to be at least three.
Confusion must flicker across my face.
“I know how that sounded,” she says quickly. “I promise I’m not a terrible person.” Her gaze softens as she looks at him. “My husband and I just adopted him.”
“Oh.” My heart shifts. “Congratulations.”
She laughs softly. “Sorry. I talk too much when I’m nervous.”
“Don’t worry,” I say with a smile. “He’s adorable.”
“Thank you. I think so too.”
The little boy squeals in delight when Skye rolls over on her back, begging for belly rubs. I take in his bright red hair, green eyes, and freckled face.
“I don’t know if this is inappropriate,” I say carefully, “but he looks just like you.”
She exhales a laugh. “I think we passed the inappropriate threshold already.” She extends her hand. “I’m Sloane. And Jagger is technically my cousin.”
“That explains it. I’m Madeline.”
“He’s the son of my aunt, who is, frankly, a piece of shit.
My mom wanted to take him in before he was officially placed, but she lost her job and couldn’t afford it.
We couldn’t let him think no one in our family wanted him.
So my husband and I applied the moment we were done with our Masters.
Twelve months later, it became official. ”
I normally wouldn’t pry, but she’s speaking with such openness. “What program?”
“Healing Horizons.”
My heart stutters.
“Horizons?” I repeat faintly.
Sloane, oblivious to my shock, continues.
“My aunt’s a Texas socialite. Obsessed with wealthy men and appearances.
When she got pregnant, it was too late for an abortion, so she went to Europe to hide it.
Planned to give him up quietly. My mom found out and lost her mind.
” Her voice tightens. “My aunt kept him—for two years—hidden from the public. That’s when we discovered the neglect. ”
She takes a steadying breath. “Healing Horizons is a home for children who’ve been abused. Mentally. Physically. And verbally.”
My pulse roars in my ears.
Healing Horizons
Her words hit home in a way I never expected.
Home…because Nate is my home, and his past is mine to help heal, too.
“Are you all right, Madeline?”
I nod quickly. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling great today. I should head home.”
“Oh, of course. I hope you feel better.”
“Thank you. And Sloane?”
“Yes?”
I meet her eyes. “You’re a good person. And Jagger is incredibly lucky to have you. We should all be so lucky to be loved like that.”
She blinks, clearly unprepared for that from a stranger. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “That means more than you know.”
I wave goodbye, and as I turn to leave, something flies in front of my face. I stop short, not believing my eyes.
An orange butterfly flutters lazily through the air, circling Skye and me, wings glowing in the sunlight.
Skye watches it, transfixed, her head tilting as if she understands exactly what this means.
I smile through the sudden sting in my eyes.
My sweet friend is still here with me.
Right when I need her most.
I love you, Camila.
I’m hit with a sudden sense of urgency to see Nate when a revelation opens my eyes to a future that steals my breath away.
A future I’ve never been more certain of.
And in this moment, I realize something else important.
I was meant to meet Sloane today, and I know, with absolute certainty, that she’s about to change our lives.
Skye and I practically sprint into the building. I throw a hand up to Benny as I enter, but his yelling that one of the elevators is out of order has me rethinking my plan.
I don’t know what’s come over me, but I can’t wait.
I yank open the stairwell door, and Skye immediately lets out a dramatic whine.
“Oh, don’t be lazy,” I scold. “Some dogs like you are out there working the line, fighting wars and crime. You can handle a few flights of stairs.”
I unclip her leash and pretend I’m back on the stair climber Nate recently bought for the home gym, pushing myself all the way to the top floor.
By the time I burst through the door, I’m breathless.
Jeez. Maybe I’m more out of shape than I realized.
Nate shoots up from his chair in a panic. “What’s wrong? Where’s my baby?”
I scowl. “Right here.” I point to myself, though we both know he means Skye.
He peers past me at our equally winded dog. “What did you do to her?”
“Can you please get me some water?” I gasp. “I have news. And she’s fine. If anything, this proves she needs a few extra walks a week.”
“Don’t body-shame my daughter,” he mutters, handing me a bottle of water while filling Skye’s bowl with fresh, cold spring water. God forbid she drinks New York City tap water. “What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
I down half the bottle. “Can you grab your laptop and meet me in the living room?”
He doesn’t question it.
Once he’s seated, laptop open, I pull up Google and type “Healing Horizons” into the search bar.
A few satellite campuses appear, but the main location is in Vermont, not too far from here.
“What is this?” His voice lowers as he reads.
“I met a woman in the park today, and she had just adopted her cousin, who was brought to Healing Horizons.” I swallow back my emotions, pointing at the screen. “He was being abused by his mother. Neglected.”
As I whisper the last part, Nate’s eyes slowly rise to mine, connecting the dots.
My speech, which I practiced repeatedly on the car ride home, goes right out the window; I forget every word, so I come right out and say it.
“I-I would like us to adopt a baby.”
The words hang between us.
To my surprise, he doesn’t react the way I expect; he’s not shocked and doesn’t have an immediate response.
Or maybe he’s stunned into silence.
When he doesn’t speak, I go on telling him about Sloane and Jagger and how eerily familiar the story felt. How I felt it deep in my bones that we’re meant to do the same.