Romane von ETHAN-QUILL

That night, after Luna was asleep, Lucas came to Seraphina's sitting room with a bottle of wine and two glasses."We need to talk.""I was afraid you were going to say that."He sat across from her. Poured. Handed her a glass. She took it."Sera.""Lucas.""Are you going to go back to him?"She did not answer right away.She sipped the wine. She looked at the window. She thought about how to say it."I do not know.""That is not a no.""I know.""A month ago, it would have been a no.""I know."He set his glass down. He leaned forward, forearms on his knees, and looked at the carpet for a long time."Can I say something?""Yes.""I am not going to try to talk you out of it."She looked at him."What?""I have thought about it. For three years. I have thought about what I would say to you if this moment ever came. And the answer I keep arriving at is that I am not going to try to talk you out of it. Because that would be for me, not for you. And I have not loved you well for three year

Sunday afternoon came cold and bright.Seraphina pushed Luna on the swing at the playground near the house in Notting Hill. Luna wore a red coat and a matching beanie. She laughed every time the swing came up. She was missing her front tooth, and the gap made her smile look like a jack-o'-lantern.Lucas sat on a bench nearby, reading a book he was not actually reading. He had asked to come. Seraphina had said yes because she needed him there. She did not know if she needed him as a friend or a bodyguard or a witness, but she needed him."Mummy. Higher.""Hold on tight.""I am tight."She pushed.Luna squealed.At the far gate, a figure appeared.Damien. In jeans and a charcoal coat. His hands in his pockets. He had not shaved. His hair was a little wind-blown. He looked, she realized, exactly like a father at a playground. Not a billionaire. Not a CEO. Just a man.He saw her. He did not wave. He did not smile. He just stood there, waiting for permission to come closer.She nodded once

She woke at 6 a.m.He was still there.She had not believed he would still be there. Some part of her had expected to open her eyes and find the bed cold, find a note, find herself alone again, the way she had been alone for three years. That was the story she knew how to live inside.Instead, he was asleep next to her. On his back. One arm flung above his head. His breathing slow. His face was softer than she had seen it in a very long time.She looked at him for a while.Then she got out of bed, wrapped herself in the hotel robe, and walked to the window.The sun was coming up over the park. The city was still quiet. Below her, a few runners moved along the paths. A garbage truck worked its way up Fifth Avenue. New York, waking up.She thought about Luna.Luna would be getting up soon in London. Breakfast time there. The nanny would be making her toast with jam. Luna would ask for her mother, because she always asked for her mother in the mornings, and the nanny would say Mummy is w

The song ended.Neither of them let go.The orchestra started another song. Slower. A ballad she did not recognize. Damien's hand on her back felt like a thing she had been missing for so long she had forgotten it was missing."Aria.""Yes.""I want to take you home."She closed her eyes.She had been waiting for this sentence for three months. She had rehearsed her answer a hundred times. I am not ready. We said no. Rules. Boundaries. Self respect.What came out of her mouth was none of those things."Not your home," she said."Not mine.""My hotel.""Yes.""Damien.""Yes.""If we do this, I need you to understand something. This is not forgiveness. This is not a reunion. This is one night. And tomorrow I am going to have to look at you across a table and figure out whether I still respect myself. Do you understand?""I understand.""Do you really.""I understand that you are going to use me tonight to punish me for something I deserve to be punished for, and that I am going to let y

Three months passed.Seraphina flew back and forth between London and New York every two weeks. Luna started asking for her mummy the second the plane landed at Heathrow and crying every time Seraphina left. Seraphina held her tight each time and promised the same thing, over and over."Mummy is going to be home soon for good. I promise."She did not know if it was true.In New York, the Thursday dinners became a rhythm. Then twice a week. Then three times. Damien never asked for more than she offered. He asked for her opinion on a new building he was renovating. He asked about her collection. He told her about his week. He showed her photos of a painting he had bought at auction. He did not mention Luna. He did not mention the past. He did not ask when she was going to let him meet his daughter.He waited.His patience was starting to unmake her.On a Tuesday in May, Elena called."The annual Cross Corporation gala is in three weeks. Same venue. The Met.""Elena.""I am not telling y

The first Thursday dinner lasted fourteen minutes.She arrived at La Rouge. She sat down. She looked at the menu. Damien ordered a bottle of wine. She ordered nothing. She asked him one question, which was how his week had been. He started to answer. He said the word "Vanessa" in his second sentence. She stood up, put her napkin on the table, and walked out.He did not chase her.She liked that he did not chase her.The second Thursday, she stayed for forty-seven minutes.They did not talk about Vanessa. They did not talk about the past. They talked about a book. The Remains of the Day, which she had been rereading because it was the only novel she had brought with her from London. He had read it. He had hated the ending. She had loved the ending. They argued about it for forty minutes, and by the time dessert came, she was laughing once. Not a real laugh. A half one. But it escaped her mouth before she could stop it, and Damien looked at her like a man watching the sunrise after a lo