Chapter 3

“Ivy?” Dante put the glass down and crouched in front of me, blocking Celeste’s view. His palm cupped the back of my neck. “You’re shaking. Let’s get you home.”

I wanted to say yes, but the baby boy started crying on the patio.

Celeste glanced at the stroller. “He already knows his daddy. Does that every time he leaves.”

Dante’s jaw tightened. “Your nanny’s waiting outside.”

“I was just talking about the baby—”

“You should go.”

He hadn’t raised his voice, but everyone fell quiet.

Celeste looked from him to me. “Don’t take it the wrong way, Ivy. You’ve never had a newborn. You can’t really understand how exhausting it is.”

Dante rose, pushing his chair aside. “Apologize to her.”

Her smile faded. “What did I say?”

“Now.”

The manager had reached our table. Celeste’s eyes filled, and she forced out an apology before wheeling the stroller away.

Maeve carefully changed the subject. Dante held my hand until the waiter cleared the appetizer plates. He was defending me, and all I could hear was those babies crying.

In the bathroom, I ran cold water over my wrists. My phone vibrated three times.

[Of course he took your side. You’re the wife he can show off over lunch. I’m the woman he’ll only acknowledge behind closed doors.]

[But my daughter’s been spitting up today. Think he’ll come if I say I need him?]

[Want to find out?]

I left the messages unanswered and looked at myself in the mirror.

[One more day. I can get through one more day.]

When I returned, Dante was slipping his phone into his pocket. He came toward me with an apologetic look I knew too well. “Baby, there’s a shipment held up at the docks. I have to go.”

I caught his sleeve. “Send someone else.”

“I can’t. Not this time.”

“You said you’d spend today with me.”

He cradled my face as though I were a little girl who couldn’t bear to let him leave. “I’ll be back before dinner. Elio will drive you home. Don’t get a cab.”

My fingers loosened on his sleeve. “Okay.”

Relief crossed his face. He kissed my forehead and walked out.

Before lunch was over, Celeste sent a video. Her daughter lay quietly against Dante’s chest in a pale lavender onesie. He supported her head with one hand, rubbing her back with the other.

“She’s fine,” he said. “If she spits up again, call the pediatrician first.”

“What about Maple Creek? We can’t keep the twins in the city forever. They don’t even have a yard. Your mother says you all grew up on estates.”

My fingertips went numb against the phone. Dante was silent for a moment.

“That’s my gift to Ivy.”

“You can buy her another house. She can live anywhere she likes. What about our babies? How long do they have to wait before they’re part of this family?”

The little boy began to cry. Celeste wiped her eyes instead of picking him up. Dante looked toward the bassinet. “Have the lawyer send me the paperwork.”

The video ended. Beneath it was another message.

[Don’t bother planning that nursery. Those two rooms in the east wing? Perfect. One for each of mine.]

I took the folder out of my bag and dropped it into the bathroom trash. A photograph of Maple Creek caught on the rim. For a second, I could see the east wing windows and the room he’d chosen for my worktable. I pushed that down, too.

When Dante got home that night, I was already in my pajamas. He kissed me, asked about lunch, and accepted my “It was fine” before launching into a story about something that had happened on his way home.

I waited until he finished. “When can we see the estate?”

“They found a problem with the roof. I backed out.” He sat beside me. “We’ll find somewhere else. Didn’t you like that vineyard in Vermont?”

“We can talk about it another time.”

He studied me. “You’ve been quiet today, Ivy.”

“Just tired.” I pulled the covers higher. “I’m going to Black Pine Ridge tomorrow afternoon. I have something to collect.”

The lodge was holding a crated nineteenth-century tapestry for me. It was supposed to be his anniversary gift, depicting the old chapel where we’d married.

He frowned. “There are fires up there. Have it shipped.”

“The last staff leave tomorrow. The courier won’t go in. Nora’s coming with me. We’ll pick it up and leave.”

I’d told him about the trip last week. He’d offered to drive me himself. Now his second phone lit up on the nightstand, and he glanced at it.

“There’s a family thing tomorrow. I can’t get out of it.”

“I know.” I turned away. “Don’t rearrange everything over this.”

He stroked my hair. “If the road’s closed, turn around. Promise me.”

I nodded and let him pull me into his arms. I stayed awake until morning.

Before he left, I slipped a brown paper envelope into his briefcase. “Part of your anniversary present. Don’t open it until tomorrow.”

“Another surprise?” He kissed me, smiling. “I’ll be waiting for you tonight.”

Inside were my pregnancy results, printouts of Celeste’s messages, and a memory card with the videos. By the time he saw them, I’d be gone.

At noon, I drove away in my dark blue Volvo. Celeste sent an address and a picture of the conservatory at the Vitale family home.

[The twins’ welcome party. Your mother-in-law picked the date. Want to see your husband’s real family?]

The house was on my way out of the city. I parked at the church next door instead of going inside. Beyond a low hedge, the conservatory’s side doors stood open.

Dante was under the white archway, holding his son. Celeste had her arm through his, their daughter asleep in a bassinet nearby. His mother handed a notary a silver pen bearing the family crest.

“As the eldest son, Matteo will be the primary beneficiary of the family trust,” she said. “Lia’s separate trust takes effect today as well.”

Those babies couldn’t hold up their heads yet, and the Vitales had already mapped out their futures. My baby had never even heard his father’s heartbeat.

“Mrs. Vitale, a little closer, please,” the photographer called to Celeste.

Nobody corrected him.

My mother-in-law straightened her collar, fussing over her more affectionately than she’d fussed over me on my wedding day. “At last, someone’s putting that nursery to use.” She touched the boy’s cheek. “Dante, you look after their mother.”

“I’ll take care of them.”

“When you’re buying things for Ivy, remember this family, too.”

He glanced down at Celeste. “When have I ever told her no?”

Everyone laughed. I left before they posed for the family portrait.

Back in the car, I took down the parking pass he’d replaced for me and left it on the passenger seat. Our emergency numbers were still written on the back.

By evening, smoke had turned the sky over Black Pine Ridge a dark red. I arrived before the final road closure and asked the property manager to return the tapestry to the dealer. Nora was waiting at the staff entrance.

I left my usual bag and coat in the room, the Volvo in the lot, and got into another car with her.

We stopped at a gas station after leaving the mountains. The television above the counter cut to breaking news. A landslide behind the lodge had breached the firebreak. Smoke swallowed the buildings. According to the reporter, a woman who’d arrived to collect a package was still unaccounted for.

My cup hit the counter. Nora closed her hand around mine. “You’re out, Ivy.”

Celeste’s final message was a link to the welcome party’s livestream.

[Made sure you have access. Enjoy.]

I opened it. Dante was adjusting his daughter’s headband when Elio hurried over and whispered in his ear. His smile disappeared. He knocked over a champagne flute beside the bassinet without looking back.

“Say that again.”

The microphone caught every word of Elio’s answer. “The fire’s reached the lodge. Your wife’s car is still there. She’s not on the evacuation list.”

Dante snatched the phone. “Ivy? Put her on!”

My own phone vibrated, his name filling the screen. I looked at his bloodless face on the livestream and switched it off.