Chapter 3

The last thing Zack found was a hospital record. Just a week before their divorce, Queenie had been to the maternity hospital. Gynecology.

Zack rushed to the hospital and tracked down the doctor on duty that day.

The doctor flipped through the records, pushing up his glasses. "Queenie Goodman? Oh, I remember her. She came in alone that day and sat in the hallway for a long time after her check-up."

Zack asked, "Was she sick? What did she have?"

The doctor looked up at him, his expression complicated. "No, she wasn't sick. She was pregnant, about six weeks along. But she was in a really bad state.

"I asked if she wanted me to call her family, but she shook her head and said she'd handle it herself."

Zack's head was spinning. He did the math and realized that it was right after that night. The last time.

That night, he'd been drunk. When they got home, she helped him to bed, and he was rough with her, barely controlled. The next morning, he'd noticed the bruises on her collarbone, only frowned, and left for work without a word.

Queenie was pregnant with his kid.

Then, she sold her only house, canceled her phone number, and disappeared completely.

Zack staggered out of the hospital. The afternoon sun was blinding. He leaned against his car, chest caving in, struggling to breathe. A fist closed around his heart, the pain forcing him to double over.

He finally understood where Queenie's calm had come from. It wasn't spite. It was her heart giving up. It was the determination to leave him, his child in her womb, forever.

*****

Four years could change a lot.

Zack had taken the Finch Group to new heights. He was a regular on the covers of business magazines. He became more silent, more closed off, throwing himself into work until it was all that remained.

His family kept pressuring him to get married, even setting up countless blind dates, but he never showed up to a single one.

In the locked drawer of his study, he kept two things: the unsigned divorce agreement and a thick photo album Queenie had left behind.

The album was packed with secret photos she'd snapped during their three years of marriage, each one with her neat, tiny handwriting filling the space underneath.

Zack rarely opened it, but he could never bring himself to throw it away.

Sometimes, after working late, he'd drive alone to that old neighborhood on Southside, smoke a cigarette downstairs, and stare up at the window on the seventh floor. The curtains were still dark blue, but someone else lived there now.

Zack was still searching for Queenie. Four years, and he hadn't stopped. But she had vanished, taking the child that may never have existed.

Everything changed when Zack went overseas for a major new energy project.

In the VIP lounge at the airport, Zack bumped into Mandy. She looked even more elegant than four years ago, her smile as perfect as ever.

Without missing a beat, she took the seat next to him. "Zack, what a coincidence. You're heading to Velaris, too?"

Zack gave a faint nod, his attention still fixed on the contract draft in his hands.

Mandy didn't let his indifference faze her. She leaned in a little, her perfume drifting over. "I heard the Finch Group's been doing really well these past few years. Are you still single?"

"Yeah," Zack replied, his voice flat.

"Actually, the reason I left back then was because..." Mandy started.

"Time to board," Zack cut her off, closing his file and standing up.

Just then, his gaze drifted to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside, the departure hall was packed, people coming and going.

And then, there she was: Queenie, the woman who'd haunted him for four years.

Queenie was dressed in an off-white trench coat, her hair loosely tied back, exposing her fair neck. Her head was slightly bowed as she listened to the girl beside her, her profile soft, lips curved in a warm smile.

Sunlight poured through the glass dome above, and for a moment, she seemed to shine in the light.

Zack's heart froze.

In the next instant, he shoved his chair aside and dashed out of the VIP lounge, ignoring everything else.

"Queenie! Queenie Goodman!" Zack yelled.

He forced his way through the crowd, shouting her name, completely ignoring the startled stares from everyone around him.

Queenie seemed to hesitate for a moment, but she didn't look back. Instead, she gripped the girl's hand tighter and hurried her steps.

Zack was almost sprinting. He finally caught up to them in a quiet corridor, cutting them off and blocking their path.

He was breathing hard, eyes fixed on Queenie. Four years of longing, regret, and heartache surged up, choking him, his throat so tight that he could barely speak.

"Queenie..." he finally forced out, his voice so dry it scraped like sandpaper.

Queenie lifted her gaze to him.

Zack's heart dropped.

Her eyes, once overflowing with love and later etched with sorrow, were now calm as a deep pool: surface smooth, depths unreadable. She looked at him as if he were any other stranger.

"Mr. Finch, it's been a while," she said, her voice polite yet distant.