âWilliam,â Daniel said, putting his hand on Willâs shoulder. âWhat are you doing?â
He handed Daniel the note. âShe left me.â
âSheâll come back,â Daniel said, folding the note into neat squares. âHannah loves you. You just have to give her some space. Make some changes. Get Madison the fuck out of your life.â
Will dropped his head into his hands. âJon and Madison are a package deal.â
âThen maybe... you need to tell him. Heâs a big boy, William. And if he stays with her, then he can get out too. We donât need him.â
Will pulled Daniel into a hug, his shoulders shaking under the weight of his tears. âThank you.â
âPack your stuff,â Daniel said, holding Will tighter. âYouâre not staying here alone.â
WILL WISHED, NOT FOR the first time, that his office door had a lock. Heâd gotten through the last week by keeping his door shut all day, every day. And it had worked for the most part. Only his junior associate, Sean, and various administrative assistants had stopped by. He wished that the seclusion had helped him finish reading the report Frank had finally sent over or line up the best expert witnesses he could find. But it was Monday again, and Will was still spending most of his time playing Minesweeper and staring at his cell phone. Hannah hadnât answered a single one of his calls or texts. He only knew she was safely in Boston because Kate took pity on him.
After a week of silence, Will couldnât have his calls go unanswered any longer. It hurt too much. He typed out a simple text: I love you, Hannah. It was a final plea to save his faltering marriage before it had even really begun. He hit Send and slid the phone into his desk drawer. Either Hannah would answer him or, more likely, not.
The handle on his door jiggled, then Jonathan stood in front of him. He was dressed in a full suit and tie for the first of two days of the quarterly executive board meeting this afternoon.
âGood afternoon, Jonathan,â Will said, standing in greeting.
His father waved the formality away and sat down in the chair across from Will. That was unexpected. In all Willâs time at Wellington Thorne, his father had never sat down in Willâs office. âHello, son.â
Will blinked. Jonathan never called him that when dressed for work. It couldnât be. His uncle couldnât have worked that fast.
âHow are you?â Jonathan continued. âI hear Hannah is in Boston? That must be... difficult for you two.â
Will swallowed before answering, tempering his tone. His father was baiting him, trying to trick him into giving out information that would prove his marriage was a sham. âItâs been rough. Sheâs busy, but Iâm needed here, as you and Grayson pointed out when I asked you to allow me to go with her.â
âYes.â Jonathan nodded. âI was glad to see you stayed true to your work ethic and didnât let your heart ruin your career.â
Will furrowed his brow. Had what appeared to be his dedication to Wellington Thorne gotten him a seat at the table?
âItâs only two months,â Will said slowly. âThen sheâll be back, and itâll be like we were never apart.â The words hurt him to say, but he got them out steadily, cockily, and confidently. Jonathan wouldnât ruffle his feathers today, and no one was dictating the end of his relationship except Hannah herself.
âWeâll see.â Jonathanâs eyes narrowed, glinting. An unsettling feeling grew in Willâs stomach. He knew that determined look. It was never good and always underhanded. âEither way, come along. We donât want to be late.â
âLate?â Will asked calmly. His fatherâs meaning was clear: there was only one place theyâd been going. But Will wanted his father to have to say itâto invite him into the fold.
âWilliam,â his father started while getting to his feet. He rebuttoned his jacket. âIâm pleased to escort you to your first executive board meeting. Itâs time you took your place alongside the other Thorne men.â
Chapter 41Hannah
Hannah closed the door behind yet another intern candidate. This one had been the worst of the bunch. He didnât even listen to alternative rock. Technically, it wasnât a prerequisite, but Hannah needed someone who knew their way around the pop underground. A working knowledge of Coldplayâs discography wasnât going to cut it. Thereâd been one promising graduate student. Hannah would call her tomorrow. She didnât have any energy left to put on the act that she was okay or to pretend she wasnât crying herself to sleep every nightâif she slept at all.
Hannah curled on up on the couch, pulling Binx onto her lap. He hadnât loved the long car ride, but over a week in, he was adjusting well. He lounged in front of the balcony window by day and slept by her feet at night. Binx purred, the soft vibrations of his small body offering the tiniest of comforts in their strange new habitat.
Nate had secured a two-bedroom sublet in Cambridge, with the second bedroom meant to be the headquarters of Deafening Silence Boston. It was nice, homey, and owned by someone who liked all types of media. The sound system was fancy and new, DVD cases lined the shelves in the living room, and video game consoles from Nintendo to PlayStation were hooked up to the television. Sheâd even tried her hand at Mario Kart. It had always helped Brian on his worst days. And these were desperate times. To her surprise, it had helped a little.
Hannah turned on the sound system, and Wilderness filled the space. She shouldâve attended their anniversary show with the love of her life last week. Instead, she had spent the day unpacking, perusing intern applications, and cuddling with Binx while crying. The rest of the week had been much the same, except sheâd had interns to interview and concerts to attend. With only two months in Boston, she had to hit the ground running.
The opening song reached its chorus, and Hannah leaned back against the couch, letting the music wash over her. The music she had loved for a decade both soothed and hurt her. But she wanted to feel that pain. If there was pain, then it had been real. She lay down on the couch, Binx sitting on her chest. He leaned his head into her hand, and she scratched behind his ears the way Will always had.
Will. Pain burst through her. The ache that hadnât left her chest since sheâd seen the pair of them standing together throbbed now. I love you, William.
Why did she have to hear that? Fucking Madison. Madison, who wouldnât stop calling no matter how many times Hannah sent her to voicemail. Will had stopped calling two days ago. Heâd left two voicemails she couldnât bring herself to listen to, and then yesterday afternoon, heâd texted her a message that broke her heart in its simplicity: I love you, Hannah. She still hadnât responded. She didnât know how.
A knock sounded on the door. Hannah stared at the stack of resumes on the coffee table. Had she forgotten about an interview? No, definitely notâshe hadnât been that distracted. Her heart sped up. Will? It would be like him to just show up. He would see it as a grand gesture. But if he was coming to Boston to get her back, he wouldâve been there by now. Â
Or maybe it was one of those pesky cable salesmen. She got up and looked through the peephole. A woman with graying brown hair and a striking resemblance to Hannah stood on the other side of the door. It couldnât be.
Hannah opened the door and found herself face-to-face with her mother. She blinked a few times, but no, she wasnât hallucinating from sleep deprivation. Her mother stood in her doorway in Boston on a Tuesday, the busiest day of her motherâs week. If Hannah had ever gotten sick on a Tuesday, sheâd been her dadâs problem.
âYour sister is pregnant,â her mother said by way of greeting.
Hannah gripped the doorknob. âI know.â
âYour sister is pregnant, and youâre married.â Her mother looked up at her with a wry smile. âHow did I get so old?â
âA twenty-two-year-old called me maâam today,â Hannah said, stepping back to let her mother in.
âAuthority will do that.â
They werenât a touchy-feely family, but Hannah couldnât ignore the fact that they hadnât hugged. Part of her wanted to jump into her motherâs arms and cry her eyes out. Something about her motherâs stance and her first wordsâabout Stephanieâstopped her. It was exactly how she wouldâve started a normal conversation, except that she hadnât returned a single phone call in all this time. There was nothing normal about her showing up in Boston.
âWhat are you doing here, Mom?â
âI could ask you the same thing,â she said, picking up a picture of Hannah and Kate from the entertainment center.
Hannah counted to three in her head before answering. âIâm working.â
âWhereâs your husband?â
âMom.â
Her mother held up her hands. âWhat happened, Hannah? Your father told me you two were madly in loveâperfect for each other. It hasnât even been a month since you had lunch, and now youâre in Boston looking like a tractor ran over you, without a single picture of the man in sight.â Her mom stepped toward her and put a hand on her arm.
The simple touch had lasted no more than a few seconds, but each second had felt like an eternity. Tears welled in Hannahâs eyes. She didnât want to tell her mom about Will like that. Sheâd wanted a happy family event, with laughter and storytelling and everyone important around her. Their love had deserved that. But after everything that had happened, Hannah didnât have that luxury.
âYou can talk to me, honey.â Her mother took a seat on the couch and motioned for Hannah to follow suit.
âI donât know if I can, Mom.â
âDonât be ridiculous. What did you think I was going to do when you showed up at our house with a husband?â