Chapter 3: The Cliff's Edge

Reesa’s father once told her that being a good helper came down to two things: having the fortitude to step up and knowing when to step back. In the immediate fallout from Daniela and Ethan’s betrayal, stepping up involved getting Myko far away from them, while stepping back meant following his lead on what ‘away’ looked like.

Without speaking, they shared an elevator to the Providence Tower parking garage, where Myko made a beeline for his visibly puzzled driver.

“Kaleb, Mrs. Sartori won’t be joining me. Please remove her luggage from the Ferrari and have it sent back upstairs. I’ll still drive myself to the Belmont, but I’d be grateful if you took Ms. Tyler home.”

Reesa quickly interjected. “I can take a bus.” That was, after all, how she’d gotten there in the first place.

Myko studied her, frowned, and shook his head. “On second thought, Kaleb, after you attend to that luggage, take the rest of the night off. I’ll see to Ms. Tyler’s safe transport.” He then gestured for Reesa to trail them to the midnight black sports car that, even to her novice eyes, seemed like a well-preserved antique.

The next half hour passed in a blur, with Reesa somewhat guiltily enjoying the way Myko handled the Ferrari, as well as the excitement that came with him pushing the speed limit. She couldn’t indulge in these feelings, however, as she was all too aware that the man beside her was floundering.

Perhaps it was in the way that he held his body taut like it was a cage and not made of flesh and blood, or maybe it was his complexion, which had a sickly paleness. Whatever the reason, his pain was palpable to her. While Reesa hadn’t forgotten the image of Ethan gasping for air, she’d challenge anyone who denied Myko was suffocating from within.

Fifteen more minutes passed without him asking where she lived, and Reesa started getting concerned. She decided to have patience, though, and took the opportunity to admire his chosen destination.

Nestled on a cliff, the luxury boutique hotel that was Belmont House overlooked the Atlantic Ocean and Easton’s Bay. Reesa caught a glimpse of the Gilded Age mansion’s weathered, sage-green roof well before the walls beneath came into view. The creamy white siding, coupled with the brightness of the moon and stars, stood out against the rich velvet of night. It made for a striking picture.

“Daniela and I stayed here when we were newlyweds,” Myko said after their discreet trip to his suite. “Our search for the perfect place lasted longer than we anticipated, so this felt like our first home. We haven’t been back in years, but I thought it would be fitting for tonight.”

As he sank into a chair, Reesa’s mind invoked a ship in the same condition.

“I’ll get you wherever you need to go, I promise,” he told her. “I just thought we should wrap up some loose ends first. Will you sit?”

She did.

“Daniela’s present . . .,” he started, but couldn’t finish.

“I can see if there’s time to cancel the delivery, maybe even return it to the seller.”

“Don’t. It took so long to find that set that it might as well go to someone who’ll cherish it, and vintage furniture is her first love,” he said. A short, bitter chuckle followed. “I only want her to know that it’s coming. I’d hate for her and Ethan to be interrupted again.”

This time Reesa was the one at a loss. What did you say to someone who’d been intimately and publicly hurt by people who, albeit in different ways, had promised their love and devotion?

“We recently redid the penthouse to suit Daniela’s new design aesthetic, support the TV show she just landed, and overall meet her standards. Believe it or not, most of my belongings, my family heirlooms and such, are in storage. I intended to have more of them moved back while we vacationed here—end June on a high note, you see—but that’s not necessary now. She and Ethan can make it their love nest.”

“Mr. Sartori—”

“Call me Myko, like you did earlier, or even Mykonos if you prefer. I don’t have it in me to be formal, not at this moment, not when my world just tilted on its axis. And not when I can’t understand why.”

She saw then that tears were forming and trickling down his cheeks. Breathing deeply, she reached out and took one of his hands. Too late, she noticed she’d picked the one with his wedding band but decided against pulling back.

“Myko, I won’t pretend I know what you’re going through, but I’m more than willing to listen. And if you’d like, I’d be happy to assist you until you find a replacement for Ethan and sort things out with Daniela.”

The tears kept soundlessly falling, but he nodded. “Thank you, Reesa.”

“You’re welcome, Myko.”

Saying nothing else for a while, they gazed at the ocean from the nearest window and watched its waves crash into the shore.

***

Weeks passed, the failed party became a memory, and summer morphed into fall. In that time, the chair of Sartori Group’s board resigned, and Daniela served Myko with divorce papers. Simultaneously, Tamara, Reesa’s younger sister, started her first year of medical school, while their mother was informed that her breast cancer was back.

But it was September 27, 2010, at four in the morning—with Reesa surrounded in bed by memos, unopened bills, and cancer treatment brochures—when she realized that in all that time, Myko had gotten no closer to finding Ethan’s replacement.

From her bed on the other side of their room, Tamara forced herself into a sitting position and made weak attempts to stretch. “Are you okay?” she asked-slash-yawned.

Reesa’s phone chimed with a message from Kaleb. She closed her eyes tight upon reading it. She had a hungover Myko to look forward to.

Again.

“I’m fine,” she said and reopened her eyes. “I just have to get ready for work.”