Chapter 1

The rain was coming down hard, and I'd forgotten my umbrella. Then a voice called out behind me. "Emily!" Sophie Lane's voice cut through the rain.

The car window slid down. "You'll never catch a cab in this," she said. "Get in."

The rain showed no sign of letting up, so I said yes. The moment I slid into the back seat, Sophie handed me a towel and turned toward the driver with a grin.

"Babe, this is Emily Warren, my supervisor. She's the one who has to sign off on my internship, remember?"

Her voice went soft and playful. I opened my mouth to thank her, and then I saw the driver's face. My expression froze.

"This is the boyfriend I told you about," Sophie went on. "James Carter."

My breath caught. The phone in my hand was still lit, still open to my WhatsApp thread with James. His last message sat there on the screen.

[Babe, just grab a cab home yourself.]

[I have to work late.]

My fingertip hovered over the screen. My hand wouldn't stop shaking.

"Emily?" Sophie said again. "Are you feeling okay?"

She turned back to James and told him to crank up the heater. "Can't you see how pale she's gone? If Emily gets sick because of you, I swear I'll skin you alive."

She thumped her fist against his chest. James's face tightened for a fraction of a second. Then he was smiling, catching her hand, nodding along.

"Yes, princess. I'm on it, taking care of your supervisor right now."

The heater came on. In that cramped little space, I watched him look at Sophie with pure indulgence. She seemed to finally register my silence and turned to me, sheepish.

"Emily, sorry. James and I mess around like this all the time. Don't take it the wrong way."

My throat closed up. The words wouldn't come. My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles went white, and then James answered for me.

"What's there to take the wrong way? She's hitching a ride with you. She should be thanking you."

He said it without a shred of softness. Sophie burst out laughing and swatted him a few more times.

I sat in the back seat, feeling the oxygen drain out of the car, and remembered that afternoon. I'd sent James a voice message: "Honey, looks like the weather's about to turn."

Then another: "If it rains later, can you come pick me up? I didn't bring an umbrella."

He didn't answer. So I sent one more. "Are you busy?"

James had been swamped lately. His company was in the middle of raising a round, and he'd been leaving early and coming home late. I understood that. I never pressed him about it.

But when the thunder started rolling and rain began pattering against the office windows, I recorded one more voice note. "Honey, are you still working?"

Near the end of the day, Sophie grabbed her bag and waved goodbye. She noticed I wasn't packing up. "Emily, you're not heading home?"

I looked at the sheeting rain and shook my head. "In a bit."

I never expected to run into her again downstairs. Never expected her to roll down her window and offer me a ride. And I certainly never expected to see James in the driver's seat. James, who had somehow become Sophie's boyfriend.

While I had gotten nothing but a cold string of text.

[Babe, just grab a cab home yourself.]

[I have to work late.]

Working late his ass.

A bitter taste spread across my tongue. My phone buzzed again in my hand. I heard James coaxing her.

"You don't believe me? Ask your supervisor yourself. See if it's not exactly what I said."

Sophie's eyes swung to me, pleading and sweet. "Emily?"

I swallowed the sting in my throat and made myself smile. "Yeah. I'm the one who should be thanking you." My voice came out rough. "Thank you for letting me into this car. Otherwise, I'd never have known a boyfriend could be this thoughtful."

Sophie didn't catch any of it. She just laughed along.

"Emily, don't go praising him. You have no idea how clingy James is. He needs a good-morning and good-night kiss from me every single day, and he insists on driving me to and from work himself."

She hugged the throw pillow against her chest, her whole face lit up. "He says girls are meant to be spoiled. That he's going to spoil me rotten so no one can ever steal me away."

My chest felt like it was packed with a wet sponge. The ache made it hard to breathe. And I remembered James's voice, the way he always said it: "Emily, can you try being more independent? Stop being so clingy."

All I ever asked was for him to shop with me. Even that, he complained about. "You think I've got time for the mall? I've got a company to run. A group of people on the payroll is counting on me. Emily, grow up."