Novels by Sylvia Miller

Alexander's POV"Where is Julian Harrington?"I'm at the nurse's station, out of breath, my tie is loose, and I don't care how I look.The nurse types on her computer, "Are you family?""I'm his father," I snap, "where is my son?"She looks at me, her expression softens, "Room 304, third floor, but sir, he's stable, the doctor is with him now."Stable, that word should comfort me but it doesn't. I need to see him.I run to the elevators, punch the button repeatedly, like that will make it come faster.The ride up feels endless, my hands won't stop shaking.Third floor, room 304, I'm running down the hallway, nurses are staring but I don't care.I push open the door to room 304 and freeze.Elena is there, standing next to a hospital bed, talking to a doctor in a white coat.Julian is lying in the bed, his eyes closed; there's a bandage on his forehead."Elena," I say, my voice breaking.She spins around, her face is tear-stained, exhausted, and when she sees me, her expression hardens.

Alexander's POV"You look beautiful today, that color suits you."The words come out low, almost a whisper; we're alone in the elevator, and Elena stiffens as I touch her."Don't, Alexander," she says, her voice tight, "don't do this.""Don't do what?" I ask, stepping slightly closer, not touching but close enough that she can smell my cologne, "Compliment my wife, remind you that I notice you now?""It's too late," Elena says, but her voice wavers; she's not as sure as she pretends to be."Is it?" I ask, and I let myself look at her the way I used to, the way I should have been looking at her for the past five years.Dark and intense and wanting, her breath catches. I see it.The elevator doors open on the tenth floor, Elena practically runs out, she doesn't look back.I smile, it's working, slowly, but it's working.I've been doing this for two weeks now, ever since that first day in the break room.I make sure I'm at Sterling Media every day Elena works, changing my entire schedule

Elena's POV"You got the job, congratulations."David Chen's voice on the phone makes me want to cry with relief. I got it, I actually got the job."Thank you," I manage to say, "when do I start?""Next Monday, nine AM, come to the fifteenth floor."We hang up, I look at Julian playing with his blocks on Sarah's living room floor, and we're going to be okay."I got it," I tell Sarah, "I got the job at Sterling Media."Sarah hugs me, "I told you, I knew you would."The salary is good, really good, benefits include health insurance for both me and Julian Monday arrives faster than I expected, and I'm standing in front of my closet trying to decide what to wear.Navy blue dress, professional but not too formal, I pull my hair back into a low bun."You look beautiful, Mama," Julian says from the doorway.The commute to Sterling Media takes forty minutes; the building is impressive, all glass and steel.I walk into the lobby, my heels clicking on the marble floor."Elena Martin for Davi

Alexander's POV"Who the hell is Robert?"I'm staring at the investigator's report on my desk, the words blurring together.Marcus, my private investigator, shifts uncomfortably, "He's a neighbor, sir, lives in the same motel, helps Mrs. Harrington with Julian sometimes.""How often is sometimes?" I demand."Three, maybe four times a week," Marcus flips through his notes, "takes them to breakfast, plays with the kid, nothing romantic from what I can tell."Nothing romantic yet, that's what he means, nothing romantic yet.I lean back in my chair, my office suddenly feels too small, "What else?""Mrs. Harrington is running out of money," Marcus says carefully, "she's been applying for jobs, administrative positions mostly, using her maiden name."Elena Martin, not Elena Harrington, she's already erasing me."How much does she have left?" I ask.Marcus hesitates, "Maybe two weeks, three if she's careful."Two weeks my wife has two weeks of money left, and I'm sitting here in my office do

Alexander's POV"Corner Brew, Atlantic Avenue, nine AM."Sarah's words replay in my head as I pull up to the small coffee shop in Queens. It's eight forty-five, I'm fifteen minutes early, my hands won't stop shaking.I check my reflection in the rearview mirror, put on a dark suit today, and actually try to look like myself again instead of the broken mess I've been.I sit in my car watching the door, rehearsing what I'll say.Elena, I'm sorry. Please give me a chance.Nine o'clock passes, and I'm starting to think she's not coming when I see her.Elena, walking down the sidewalk holding Julian's hand, she's wearing jeans and a sweater, her hair down, and she's laughing at something Julian is saying.My chest aches watching her; she looks lighter somehow, freer, happier without me.They walk into the coffee shop, and I'm about to get out of my car when I see someone else approach their table.A man, maybe my age, casual clothes, friendly smile, he's carrying a muffin.He sets it in fr

Alexander's POV"She wanted to be loved, that's all she ever wanted."I'm talking to myself in the empty penthouse, sitting on the floor surrounded by photo albums and empty scotch bottles, the city lights blurring through my tears.It's past midnight, maybe one AM, I've lost track of everything except the crushing weight of what I've done.I stand up, stumble, and walk to the window seat in the corner, Elena's favorite spot.She'd sit here in the mornings with coffee and a book, sunlight streaming in, looking peaceful.I find a book tucked into the cushions, one she left behind, a novel about second chances.I open it and see her handwriting in the margins, little notes to herself, thoughts about the characters."Is it possible to love someone who doesn't see you?" she wrote on page fforty-sevenMy hands shook while reading her words. Elena had a whole life, whole thoughts happening right in front of me, and I never asked.I sink onto the window seat holding her book, and five years