Novels by Urica Kate

Thomas stood in the hallway long after Paige's footsteps faded. Her words echoed in the silence. 'I loved you. I stayed when anyone else would have left. I tried to help with your sons even though they hated me. I put my entire life on hold for you.' He pressed his palms against his eyes. Had he been unfair? She had stayed. Through the worst of his grief, through the custody battle preparation, through nights when he'd been so buried in work he'd barely acknowledged her presence. She'd reorganized his household staff, handled the boys' schedules when he couldn't, showed up to functions on his arm when he needed someone presentable beside him. And he'd given her nothing but money in return. No love. No future. No promise of anything beyond the hollow arrangement they'd fallen into after Claire died. Thomas dropped his hands, staring at the empty hallway. Maybe Piper had been the excuse he'd been looking for. A reason to end something that should have ended months ago.

Thomas sat in the back seat of the Car, staring at his phone.The screen was dark. He'd opened his messages three times in the last twenty minutes, typed Piper's name, and deleted it each time.What was he supposed to say? He locked the phone and shoved it in his pocket.The drive back from Oakland had been a blur. Forty-five minutes of streetlights and highway and the ghost of Piper's voice echoing in his head.Prove it.Not with words. Not with apologies. Prove it.He'd left her standing in that gallery, tears on her cheeks, looking at him like he was both the best and worst thing that had ever happened to her. And maybe he was. Maybe that's exactly what he'd become—the man who'd loved her and destroyed her in the same breath.The car pulled through the gate, the security lights flickering on automatically. The house loomed ahead, every window lit like someone was afraid of the dark.The driver killed the engine, but Thomas didn't move.His phone buzzed. A text from Margaret.Margar

Thomas closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, and the look in them made her chest ache. "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since before I had the sense to realize it. Since before I destroyed us. Maybe even since the day you walked into my house covered in paint and broke my favorite vase."Piper couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't process the words coming out of his mouth."I know you don't believe me," Thomas continued, voice raw. "I know I have no right to tell you this now. But I came here tonight because I had to see you. Had to know you were okay. And I saw your work and I saw you and I realized—" He stopped, jaw working. "I realized that you're better than okay. You're extraordinary. And I had nothing to do with it. I don't get to claim any part of your success. But I need you to know that I see it. I see you. Finally. And...God! I miss you, I miss you so much."Those last words felt like he'd finally stripped himself and let her see him all vulnerable.

Piper's heart was trying to break through her ribs.She'd seen him.Thomas.Standing in the back of her gallery, in his perfect suit, with that unreadable expression she'd spent six months trying to forget.What the hell was he doing here?"Piper?" Maribel's hand was on her arm, voice low and urgent. "Babe, you just went completely pale. What's wrong?"Piper forced herself to breathe. To smile. To remember that she was Piper McDowell, the artist everyone was here to see, not the girl who'd been thrown out of his house like trash."Nothing," she said, voice steadier than she felt. "I'm fine."Maribel followed her gaze toward the back of the room, frowning. "Who are you looking at?""No one." Piper turned away deliberately, champagne glass gripped too tight in her hand. "Just thought I saw someone."A collector approached—older woman, kind smile, asking about Endurance. Piper answered on autopilot, nodding at the right moments, explaining her process while her mind screamed.He was here

Thomas arrived at Aurelius Gallery at 2:47 p.m., he sat in the back of the car, staring at the building through tinted windows. regretting every decision that had led him here. "Sir?" His driver glanced in the rearview mirror. "Would you like me to wait?"Thomas forced himself to move. "No. I'll call when I'm ready."He stepped out into the Los Angeles afternoon. The gallery entrance loomed ahead, and for a brief, irrational moment, Thomas considered getting back in the car and leaving.But his feet carried him forward anyway.The lobby was cool, quiet, tastefully minimal. A receptionist looked up, smiled professionally."Thomas Anderson," he said."Of course, Mr. Anderson. Marcus is expecting you. Third floor, conference room B."Thomas nodded and moved toward the elevator, hands buried in his pockets to keep the tension locked in.The doors closed.He exhaled slowly.Somewhere in this building, her work hung on walls. Pieces of the last six months, her survival, her pain, her refus

Maribel's expression hardened. "Then you look him in the eye and remember that you're the one who survived. Not him.""He seems pretty fine to me." Piper chuckled sadly, "He's wealthy, Maribel.""Is he?" Maribel tilted her head. "Because from where I'm sitting, he's the one who threw away someone irreplaceable. And you're the one about to have the best night of your life."Piper managed a small smile. "When did you get so wise?""I've always been wise. You just don't listen." Maribel checked her watch. "Eat up. Julian's going to be here in thirty minutes, and you need actual food in your system."Julian arrived at ten sharp, recorder in hand and that same thoughtful expression he'd worn during their first interview."Piper." He shook her hand warmly. "The space looks incredible.""Marcus and his team deserve the credit.""But, the space is incredible because your work beautified it."They walked through the gallery together, stopping in front of each piece. Julian asked questions—some