Introduction
The moment the plane touched down, Nora's head was pounding.
Over ten hours in economy. Every muscle ached.
But it was her fifth wedding anniversary, and just thinking about seeing her husband made her chest go warm.
She'd thrown everything into planning this "surprise."
What she didn't expect was the surprise her husband had waiting for her.
Chapter 1
Across the street, her husband — Julian York, the famous architect known for being "cold," "aloof," and downright germaphobic — was holding an umbrella over another woman.
Nora had seen that woman's face before. She'd recognize her in ashes. Giselle Hartley. Julian's "dead first love."
The one who'd supposedly married the wrong man, gotten beaten by him, and divorced.
Well, this "first love" didn't look the least bit battered by life.
Her long hair was damp. Her face was delicate. She wore a perfectly tailored suit and was tilting her chin up at Julian, smiling.
And Julian? Nora almost thought she'd gone blind.
His brow was faintly furrowed, that expression she knew, the slightly annoyed one.
But his action... His hand lifted, casually, and tucked a damp strand of hair behind Giselle's ear.
He was saying something, too. She read his lips. It wasn't back off.
The rain soaked through Nora's chest like ice water.
Her brain played it back like a movie. Five years ago, when she'd chased Julian, thrown herself at him — he'd kept that glacial face on, every single time.
After the wedding, when she'd leaned in for a kiss, he'd flinched back with a frown, like she was contagious.
Now? With Giselle, where had that precious germaphobia gone? Eaten by the dog?
She stood in the rain like an idiot and watched the happy couple walk into a ridiculously expensive-looking restaurant next door.
Something possessed her. She followed them in. Picked a corner table — not too close, not too far.
Her heart was slamming. Her hands and feet were freezing. She didn't even know what she was doing. She just wanted to see how big this "surprise" could really get.
And oh, it got big.
The table wasn't just Julian and Giselle. There were a few foreigners too, coworkers by the look of them.
Giselle's voice was soft — not loud, not quiet — with that little pouty lilt. But she was speaking German.
Nora had taken German as an elective in college. Not fluent, but she could follow a conversation fine.
Giselle was laughing sweetly. "…Julian, that little wife of yours, she looks so young, so bubbly. Like a little girl. But does she really get you? Your ambitions, your world? I just feel like… she doesn't quite measure up to you."
Nora's fingers locked around the water glass. Her nails bit into her palm.
And then Julian answered, and her blood turned to ice.
He didn't deny doesn't measure up. He just replied in a tone Nora had never once heard from him, something almost indulgent, in German:
"Measuring up doesn't matter. She fits. That's enough."
Light. Offhand. Like he was grading a piece of furniture.
Something snapped inside her head. The wire she'd been walking for five years — gone.
So that's what she was to him. A suitable piece of decoration.
Five years of marriage. She'd poured her entire heart into him. Waited on his parents. Kept that cold, sterile house running. And all she got was she fits?
She was a joke.
And it wasn't over yet. One of the Asian foreigners — pretty deep into his drink — clapped Julian on the shoulder and boomed out in broken English:
"Julian! This beautiful Miss Hartley — is this the legendary first love? The one you almost got arrested fighting over? The one you signed some death waiver with to go off exploring? Wow! I've heard so much about you!"
He didn't even notice Nora in the corner.
The whole table lit up. Everyone jumped in, egging them on, digging into Julian and Giselle's big, wild romantic past.
How they'd dated in high school and gotten their parents called in.
How in college Julian had brawled with some thugs to protect Giselle and almost gotten expelled.
How after graduation the two of them had signed a liability waiver together and run off to the deserted badlands out west for some geological expedition.
A sharp sting hit Nora right in the chest. So his precious "focus on work" — he'd been capable of being crazy over someone. Just not her.
Every story. Every memory. Years of passion she'd never been part of. Never even heard of.
