160 Joana’s POV Her look stayed sharp and full of possession, although she tried to look as neutral as possible. She tried to hide it with a little smile. However, the feelings of jealousy threatening beneath were unmistakable. The smoothie cup shook softly as she squeezed it in her perfect dream-manicured hands. I looked her straight in the eye without backing away. She wasn’t important enough for my time, but I wouldn’t let her watch me leave first. Both of us were locked in a silent head-to-head. Even so, she said nothing. There was hesitation reflected in her gaze. Though Louisa was easily agitated, she wouldn’t dare create a major incident publicly, especially with people watching nearby. She was fuming, filled with rage, but she managed to keep her cool. Her survival instinct caused her not to speak, but everyone could see her anger by the slight trembling of her lip and how she looked at them, all eyes and ready to strike. She then got to her feet, quietly brush
159 JOANA'S POV I turned and noticed her sitting at the café’s brightest window, with a group of similarly out-of-place women all drinking their smoothies in what looked like champagne glasses. They spent hours together talking, forcing laughs and using lots of perfume, all trying to impress each other with gossip or their knowledge about new brands. I sighed inside and began to wonder if I should leave. But the smell of my cake, the warmth of the coffee cup in my hands, and my craving for peace and sugar overruled the impulse to escape. I went into the booth behind them and tried to keep quiet, hoping to simply sit there without being noticed. Of course, Louisa was not the type to ignore eavesdropping. There was just one setting for the woman, and that was too loud. I took a sip of coffee and had the first bite of my cake, then I heard her say, “I’m almost there with Clinton. I wish it was simple for that psychotic bitch to marry Caleb so she would be gone from our lives.
158 Joana’s POV With so many problems in her sentence, I didn’t have a clue what to fix first. She was admirably bold, and I couldn’t help but feel awkward as a result. Knowing the owner? I owned my own business. I decided to smile at her instead of correcting her. “Five million dollars? That’s a lot of money.” I said softly to myself. “What a huge investment!” “That’s right,” she said, thinking I was jealous. “Now that you’re here, I may decide to deal with another company. I can’t stand anybody ruining my work.” Louisa found ways to be incredibly embarrassed quickly. And that made me laugh each second. Some loud gasps were coming from the crowd as I moved on. One of our senior designers, Mona, was getting pretty impatient. I motioned silently for her not to come and walked on. Louisa also sadly made the same decision. “How did you manage to get this job? How did you get here past the front desk when you weren’t supposed to? You know what? I’ll go speak to the owner
157 Joana’s POV There was no change the next morning. At breakfast, I was seated next to Caleb and the kids, trying to smile when I could but mostly kept quiet. Clinton was not there. That hit me the minute I stepped in. I put my hands into a relaxed position. He looked over at me again. “You okay?” I tried to smile, even though I didn’t want to. “Yeah.” While I went for the butter knife, my hands trembled a bit. There was a familiar heaviness in my chest. The reflection I saw in the silver looked foreign to me. We chatted about weddings, the dresses women choose, and the arrangements made for dates. Somewhere inside me, my heart was not keeping to that same tempo. I didn’t understand how to stop the sound in my head. — I relaxed that afternoon in the garden after I found a spot free of noise. I had to take a moment to think. I wanted distance from both the man who had my present and the one who had my past—both were part of my life in that house. And possibly,
156 JOANA’S POV I woke up and felt a dragging ache on my forehead and a lump in my chest that I didn’t understand. With my eyes still closed, I tried to grab the object I had on the nightstand. The glass of water I set out the night before was within easy reach of my fingers. It slipped. The shattering sound shook the air and quickly disturbed the quiet house. Several shards of glass were scattered throughout the room, and I lay there shocked. At the moment, I didn’t have the strength to move anything. My torso was cramped from sleeping wrong. My knees were aching because of last night’s events. I hauled myself up from the bed, watching my steps around the glass. Just as I bent to begin cleaning up, I felt someone's hand take mine and stop me. Clinton said softly, “Joana.” Warm. Low. Steady. I gasped and looked up. He was already on one knee next to me, with folded eyebrows from worry. He told me, “Just don’t.” “How are you here?” “I was just about to see Caleb con
155 JOANA’S POV Surrounded by stacks of paper, plus two open files and a dimly lit computer, he was alone and looked tired at the table. He was slouched in his seat, with slightly narrowed eyes, pulling at his collar with one hand and tapping the table with another. I knew he hadn’t spotted me so far. I hesitated. At the time, I stood against a wall in the shadows and watched him. That’s not a word I’d normally use, but it felt unusual. It felt almost as though I was watching a version of him that was carrying big worries inside. I quietly took a breath and walked toward the kitchen. I made a mental note to myself, “Get some water and come back.” No noise. No conversation. Silence isn’t awkward. I took my time, checking the shawl, trying not to rub against any objects. Right when my plan started to work, the universe became my worst enemy. My knee was bashed against the edge of the lower cabinet, and I quickly felt a sharp pain in my leg. I hissed. “Damn it.” I hadn’