Chapter 1
Clara
Six years ago, Clara Whitmore thought that marrying Alexander Vale would be the love story of her life.
She was expecting a baby.
He was a billionaire.
Neither of them had known what they were doing, either.
That is, at least, what Clara told herself.
Love, she assured herself, was not always a thing before a wedding. Sometimes it was later. Occasionally it blossomed softly through shared meals, midnight feedings, sick days, family vacations and drowsy kisses.
Sometimes a husband just needed time to fall in love with his wife.
And so Clara waited on.
When Alexander worked until two in the morning, she waited.
She waited, even when he missed their anniversary meal for a board meeting.
She waited, even when he kissed her forehead instead of her mouth.
He promised next weekend. And she waited. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
And each time she believed him.
It was simpler to believe him than to acknowledge the truth.
She didn’t know whether Alexander had ever loved her.
But Noah?
That young boy was his world.
And for six years, Clara had thought that Alexander would ultimately come to the same conclusion. "Mommy?"
Clara looked down.
Noah stood behind her in his small soccer uniform, his hair sticky with perspiration and his cheeks bright red from running. ""Yes, baby?" "“Where is Daddy?”
Her heart constricted.
She looked toward the entrance to the school field.
Nothing.
Again. "He'll be here," she said.
Noah frowned. But he promised he would. I understand. He said he wouldn't miss my championship game. I know, dear.
Noah gazed out over the field.
Then at the entrance
Then back out into the field.
Clara hated the hope that was in his eyes.
She knew hope that.
She had borne it for six years.
The final whistle sounded.
Parents leaped to their feet, cheering.
Noah's team had won.
His teammates ran toward their families.
One little boy's father lifted him into the air.
Another father dropped to his knees and hugged his son so tightly that the boy disappeared inside his arms.
Noah didn't move.
He kept staring at the entrance.
Clara swallowed the lump in her throat. "Mommy?" "Yes?" "Did Daddy forget?"
The question hit harder than any accusation.
Clara crouched in front of him. "No. Daddy didn't forget you."
Noah's little mouth twisted. "Then why isn't he here?"
She had no answer.
Because the truth was ugly.
Alexander had always been somewhere else.
At a meeting.
On a flight.
In a boardroom.
Solving a crisis.
Building his empire.
Saving the world, apparently.
Just never standing beside his son when it mattered.
Clara forced a smile. "Come on. Let's celebrate."
Noah didn't smile back. "I wanted Daddy." "I know." "He said he'd come."
Clara pulled him into her arms. "I know, baby."
Noah buried his face against her shoulder.
And something inside Clara cracked.
Not because Alexander had disappointed her.
She was used to that.
It was because he had disappointed their son.
Again.
Clara looked across the field at the empty entrance.
She had spent years making excuses for Alexander.
She had told herself he was busy because he was important.
She had told herself he didn't say "I love you" because he wasn't good with words.
She had told herself his pricey gifts were only his way of showing affection.
She had persuaded herself that eventually he would return home and look at her the way she looked at him.
But standing there with Noah trembling in her arms, Clara finally knew something.
She wasn't the only person Alexander kept disappointing.
And maybe that was worse. "Mommy?"
Clara pushed Noah's hair away from his forehead. "What?" "Can we go home?"
Her chest tightened. "Of certainly."
They gathered Noah's things and proceeded toward the parking lot.
Clara had just opened the car door when headlights came at the end of the road.
A black SUV drew up.
Her heart jumped.
Sure.
Alexander.
Late hours.
The door on the passenger side opened.
Alexander strode out in a finely tailored suit, looking like he'd walked right out of the pages of a business magazine.
He was tranquil in his expression.
Regulated.
Untouched by the fact that he had missed the most critical game of his son's year.
He had a big black present box.
Noah was watching him.
Alexander smiled. Champs.
Noah did not move.
Alexander moved closer. "“Congrats on the win,” I heard.
Noah's face was expressionless. “I got you something.
He took the package.
Noah checked it over.
Then at his father. I didn’t want a present.
Alexander's smile faded. "I thought you'd appreciate it. I wanted you.
Quiet.
Clara saw the change come over Alexander's face.
The billionaire looked totally at a loss for the first time that day.
Noah looked aside.
Clara took her son by the hand.
Alexander glanced at her.
Their eyes locked.
And for one dangerous second Clara wanted him to say something.
Whatever.
Tell her he was sorry. Tell her.
“Tell Noah he counted.”
Tell them why he picked work over them again.
Alexander just stood there with an expensive present nobody wanted.
Clara clutched Noah’s hand tighter.
And for the first time in six years she wondered if waiting for Alexander to become the husband and father they deserved was costing her son more than she could afford to lose.