Chapter 11: A Blast from the Past

Chloe's Point of View

I was going to be out for just lunch-thirty minutes away from the stifling squeeze of work pressure, Jonathan's chill attitude, and the depressing reality of our marriage of convenience. There was the little café near the office-the only refuge of crystal clear thoughts, and I pretended, or at least imagined for a little while longer, that life wasn't spinning out of my control.

The fragrance of freshly brewed coffee was so familiar, it enveloped me the moment I stepped inside, soothing my nerve immediately. I ordered my usual—the turkey sandwich, a cup of chamomile tea. Then, I scanned the room for a quiet corner in which to sink into it all. The noise from the chatting people, clinking cups, and pressing hissing of the espresso machine was a comfortable background hum.

But then I saw him.

Ethan Hayes.