Stella's eyes grow wide. "I'd never do that."

  I nod. "Of course not."

  I'm not sure why I said that. I must be losing my temper because I've been frustrated and anxious all day. But I have to keep myself calm or I won't get what I want from her.

  "I'm sorry. I know you're not that kind of person. In fact, I know you're a good person raised by good people..."

  "Don't bring my parents into this."

  "That's why I offered you this contract," I tell her. "Do you think I'd just ask anyone to be the mother of my child?"

  "Why don't you just get yourself a girlfriend? Or a wife? Isn't that what your father wants? Does he know you're doing this? Do you think he'll approve?"

  "As long as he gets his grandchild and the heir to Hawthorne Holdings, he'll be happy," I say. "If not, I no longer care."

  "So it's all about the baby?" Stella asks as she uncrosses her legs and lifts her hands. "I'm just a baby maker? A baby machine? A sex doll that happens to have the extra feature of being able to reproduce?"

  I frown. "I never said any of that."

  "But all you care about is the baby, right? That's why you're willing to pay so much for it."

  "I care about you, too. That's why I'm letting you keep the baby."

  "Oh. That's a concession?"

  "That's why I'm providing for you. I'm willing to give you everything you want, everything you need not just to raise a child but to be happy. Because you deserve to be happy."

  "I know I do."

  "Think about what I'm offering you, Stella."

  "So you think it's a lot compared to what you're asking of me?"

  "If you think it's not enough, we can negotiate."

  "Like business people?" she asks. "Because this is just another business transaction to you?"

  "Not true."

  I don't understand why she's being so difficult, why she's making me feel like I'm doing something wrong without telling me what I'm doing wrong.

  I draw a deep breath. "Like I said, if there's anything about the contract you don't like..."

  "I already said I don't like the whole contract," Stella tells me.

  "And I'm still trying to understand why."

  She looks away and falls silent. Why? Why won't she help me understand? What is it she's not telling me?

  "Is it because I'm your boss?" I ask her. "Because you take your work seriously and you don't want to mix your personal life with your career? If that's the case, you can quit your job."

  "So no one will know you got your assistant pregnant?"

  "No one will," I promise her. "I'll make sure no one bothers you and my child. Our child."

  Still, Stella doesn't look convinced. "I don't want to quit my job."

  I narrow my eyes at her. "But didn't you say you wanted to be a mother more than anything?"

  "I don't remember saying that."

  "You wrote it down in your journal. You said you wanted your own child. You said..."

  I stop as I realize what I've just said - something I shouldn't have. I regret it the moment I see the look of dismay on Stella's face.

  Fuck.

  She stands up. "You read my journal? How? When?"

  I sigh. No use lying about it now.

  "You left it on your desk that night when you came back to the office after work," I tell her.

  "And you just read it? How could you?"

  I don't have any excuse for that behavior so I say nothing.

  "Wait. So you read my journal?" Stella starts to pace the floor. "Is that why you suddenly started acting like you cared about me? Is that why you suddenly decided to bring me along to Switzerland? Because you knew I wanted to travel?"

  "That's not why."

  But she's not listening.

  "Is that why you had that chef make those dumplings for me, knowing my mother used to make them? Is that why you knew I didn't have any friends?" She gasps. "Is that why you used that blindfold on me and fucked me in front of the mirror? I wrote about that, didn't I?"

  I don't answer.

  She narrows her eyes at me. "Is that why you had sex with me? Because you knew I was a virgin and felt sorry for me? Because you knew I would like it?"

  "That's not why," I tell her again.

  Maybe what I read in the journal played a role, but I didn't have sex with her just because of that.

  "Then why?" Stella asks me. "Why did you kiss me? Why did you teach me all about pleasure?"

  Her eyes brim with tears as she looks into mine. Her lips quiver.

  "Why did you make me fall in love with you?"

  My eyebrows arch. What?

  I didn't see that coming. I never even thought of it. And I definitely don't know how to respond to it.

  "I..."

  I try to put words together but fail. My emotions are too jumbled for me to make sense of them. For once in my life, I'm clueless about what I'm supposed to say or do.

  "Forget it," Stella says. "Forget about all of it."

  She walks to the door but stops.

  "Just so we're clear, I'm not signing that contract."

  She takes another step.

  "Also, I'm quitting. I'll send my resignation letter to HR tomorrow."

  I say nothing.

  Stella opens the door and leaves. A part of me wants to run after her, but even if I do, what will I say? I still don't know.

  I scratch the back of my head.

  She's thrown me a real curve ball. Then again, she's always had a way of surprising me in the most unexpected ways.

  And now, she's gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Stella

  I can't stay here.

  I fight off a fresh wave of tears as I stuff my clothes inside my suitcase, the same one I just unpacked a week ago.

  I had a feeling Ethan wouldn't be happy with my decision not to sign that stupid contract, but I didn't think he was going to be such a jerk about it.

  It's selfish enough that all he sees me as is a baby maker. Then he goes on and says that the contract is in my best interest, that he's going to keep everything a secret for my sake when he's the one with a reputation to uphold. How dare he say I deserve to be happy while making sure I won't be?

  Then I find out he read my journal. He fucking read my journal, my most private possession.

  Don't they teach you in third grade not to go through other people's things?

  Yes, I was careless to leave it there. Yes, he owns the desk I left it on. Even so, he didn't have to read it. But he did. He read every page, I think. Every secret. Every wish. Every fantasy. And because of that, nothing feels real anymore.

  It's like listening to a song and admiring it because the lyrics are so heartfelt and then realizing the singer was lip-syncing and that it was actually someone else singing.

  Everything Ethan did in Switzerland, he did because of what he read in my journal. Either he felt sorry for me because of the things he read or he used the information to seduce me. It was all a trick, a farce. And the worst part is that I fell for all of it.

  I fell for him.

  But I'm done. Yesterday, I quit being Ethan's assistant. Today, I just stayed in bed nursing my broken heart, a stupid part of me silently hoping that Ethan would come and mend it, that he would somehow make things right. But of course, he didn't. And now I've realized I can't stay.

  I've learned to like Chicago, but I can't stay in the place where I met the only man I've ever loved, the same man who doesn't love me and probably never will. I won't be able to move on if I stay here. And I have to move on.

  I have to go so I can survive.

  The doorbell breaks into my thoughts. I freeze.

  In spite of myself, hope fills my chest. Is that Ethan? Did he finally come to his senses? Is he here to stop me from leaving?

  I open the door. My heart sinks when I see Jess and Randy.

  "We're not who you were expecting, are we?" Randy asks.

  "Nonsense." I put on a smile. "I just didn't think you'd show up here. Aren't you guys supposed to be at work?"

  Jess points to her watch. Right. It's already the end of the day.

  She puts her hands on her hips. "The question is: Why weren't you at work?"

  They noticed?

  "Before that, can we come in?" Randy asks. "It feels weird to be standing here."

  "Yeah, sure."

  I open the door wider so they can come inside, something I should have done first thing.

  "Just pardon the mess."

  The takeout boxes from lunch are still on the table. The door to my bedroom is open and my bed hasn't been made. Plus my suitcase is on the floor.

  Jess sees it and gives me a look of concern. "You're leaving?"

  I purse my lips.

  "So it's true," Randy says. "You resigned."

  I narrow my eyes at him. "How did you know?"

  "I overheard someone from HR talking about it."

  "Why?" Jess asks me. "Why are you leaving?"

  "Because..."

  I stop talking because tears sting my eyes again. This time, I can't stop them. They just fall down my cheeks.

  "Oh." Jess wraps her arms around me and I sob on her shoulder.

  I don't understand. I've already cried so much and yet I'm crying again. Even harder this time. I can feel myself trembling. My chest just hurts. And it seems the only way to ease the pain is to let my tears out.

  So that's what I do. I cry until I can't cry anymore. Afterwards, Randy hands me a box of tissues.

  "Thank you," I tell him before blowing my nose. Then I turn to Jess. "I'm sorry I got your sweater wet."

  "It's fine," she says. "I'm more worried about you."

  "Me too," Randy says. "Is all this because of Ethan? Did something happen in Switzerland?"

  I tell them. I tell them everything. When I'm done, they both give me a hug.

  "Oh, you poor thing." Jess strokes my hair.

  "Ethan's a jerk," Randy says. "And to think I had a crush on him."

  I grin. "I'm the biggest fool, though."

  Jess squeezes my hand. "I wish I could convince you to stay. I hate to think that you're leaving just when I've started to get to know you."

  "Me too," I tell her.

  "But I know you have to go. I'd do the same thing."

  "Where are you going?" Randy asks me.

  I draw a deep breath. "Home."

  ~

  The fog greets me as soon as I come out of the airport in Seattle. I smile because it feels like a hug from the city, welcoming me back.

  I drop my things at a hotel and grab a cup of coffee. I sip it as I reminisce inside the cab headed to the house where my parents and I used to live.

  So many memories.

  Even more of them come flooding back once I'm standing in front of the two-story house I know so well. It looks the same as when I left it. Dark blue roof. Pale blue walls. White door. White windows. White porch. The sign on the front says it's still for sale, so I guess no one has lived in it since I last did.

  I walk up to the front door. It's locked, of course. I peek through the window. All I see are pieces of furniture covered in white cloth, which in turn is covered in dust. Even hidden, I can recognize some of them, and I smile.

  I go around the house to the backyard. I see the patch of soil where my mother's garden used to be. Only weeds grow in it now. I also see her box of gardening tools right next to Arthur's old doghouse. I remember we buried his ashes under it.

  I remember something else buried in the backyard, too - an old pink music box which my parents gave me. I cried when it broke but I continued to treasure it. Then one day, I just outgrew it. My mother suggested that I throw it away, but I decided to bury it instead, like a time capsule. I remember I put some other things in it, too.

  Why did I forget about it until now?

  I dig it up using my mom's old tools, thinking maybe it will help me rediscover who I am or give me some clue about what I should do next. The task takes me half an hour and tires me out, but all my exhaustion vanishes when I see the box. It's dirty but still intact.

  I decide to bring it with me to the hotel to go through its contents there. After all, it looks like it's going to rain soon. I start to cover the hole, but an idea occurs to me.

  There's something else I want to bury. My past.

  Of course I can't do that literally, but I can bury my journal, and I realize I want to. I don't think I can write in it anymore anyway, not after knowing all the trouble it's caused.

  I press it to my chest one last time and then place it in the hole. I cover it with soil. I've just finished when it starts to rain.

  I savor the shower of rain for a moment, just because I've missed it, but when it starts to turn into a downpour, I run to the front of the house. I take shelter on the porch and walk over to the old rocking chair so I can sit in it while I wait for the rain to stop.

  At least, that's my plan. But after taking another step, I suddenly feel dizzy. I hold on to the railing to keep myself from falling, but my knees are too weak. I find myself sinking to the floor anyway.

  As my eyes close, I listen to the sound of the rain. It reminds me of the time I shared an umbrella with Ethan in Zurich.

  Strange. In spite of everything, I still miss him.

  I wonder what he's doing now.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ethan

  "What are you doing?" Asher asks as he barges into my office.

  I don't answer because I'm busy emptying the Scotch in my glass down my throat.

  Asher grabs the bottle from my desk. "Everyone is on the sixth floor, celebrating the fact that the Odermatt acquisition is final and official, and here you are sulking."

  I set my glass down.

  "Who's to say I'm not celebrating?"

  Asher looks at the empty glass disapprovingly. "Since when do you drink in your office?"

  "Like I said, I'm celebrating. Now give me back that bottle."

  Asher doesn't. Instead, he puts it down on the coffee table, the same one where I put down the brown envelope containing that baby contract when I last spoke to Stella. The same one where I tore it to pieces after she left.

  I frown.

  "You're celebrating by yourself?" Asher asks me.

  "Why not?" I pick up my glass and get out from behind my desk. "I'm the one who got Odermatt to sign, aren't I?"

  "With Ryker's help," Asher reminds me. "And mine."

  I reach the table and grab the bottle. "Then celebrate with me."

  "No." Asher takes the bottle from me once more. "Enough of this."

  "I've only had one glass," I protest.

  He takes the glass from me as well. He places both it and the bottle on the shelf behind him.

  "I don't mean just the Scotch."

  I give him a puzzled look. "What do you mean, then?"

  "Ever since Stella left, you've been locked up in your office whenever you're here in the building."

  "Because I have more work to do now that I don't have a reliable assistant."

  I haven't found a replacement for Stella yet.

  "And Dad says you've been drinking every night."

  "I don't care what he says."

  Not anymore.

  "I heard you shouted at Olivia, too. Have you forgotten that she's always had your back?"

  I haven't. I didn't mean to shout at her. I was just... stressed.

  "What?" I ask Asher. "Did she come crying to you? I bet you comforted her."

  Asher's jaw clenches. "What happened to you?"

  "Just the usual shit," I answer bitterly as I sit on the couch.

  "This isn't you." Asher stands in front of me. "If you want something, you go after it, remember? If you want Stella back, just go after her and bring her back."

  I have thought about that. Several times, in fact. But each time, I remember how much I've hurt her and I end up convincing myself that she's better off without me.

  I shake my head. "Some things you just have to let go."

  "But you're not letting it go, are you? You're just acting like a pathetic fool."

  I narrow my eyes at him. "What did you say?"

  He grins. "You know what? If you're not going after Stella, maybe I will. Maybe I'll try comforting her."

  My temper spikes. Blood rushes to my head. I get off the couch and the next thing I know my fist is flying towards Asher. It hits his nose.

  I've been wanting to do that for a while now.

  But I didn't expect him to hit me back, which he does. His knuckles ram into my cheek and I take a step backwards. I taste blood.

  What the fuck?

  I try to punch Asher again but he dodges. I grab his shirt and pin him against the wall. Then I raise my fist.

  Even with his bleeding nose, Asher glares. "Go ahead. Do it."

  Suddenly, the door opens.

  "What on earth?"

  Ryker steps between Asher and me. He pushes me away and glances at Asher's nose.

  "What the hell are the two of you doing?"

  "Having our own party," Asher answers as he wipes his nose.

  I wipe the blood trickling from the corner of my mouth and swallow the rest. I draw a deep breath.

  Gradually, my temper subsides. As it does, my mind clears. I realize the stupidity of what I've just done and I slap my forehead.

  "Fuck."

  "Fuck is right," Ryker says. Then he sighs. "Seriously, what are the two of you doing?"

  "I just came up to check on him and found him drinking alone." Asher points to the bottle of Scotch.

  Ryker gives me a look of dismay. "What?"

  "Then I told him he should just go after Stella because we all know she's the reason why he's acting like this, and well... you saw what happened next. Or part of it."

  I sit on the couch and let out a sigh of my own.

  "I can't go after Stella."

  Enough with the denial and the drinking. It's not making anything better. Maybe talking to my brothers finally will.

  "Why not?" Asher asks.

  "Because I was the one who sent her packing. I hurt her. I've been hurting her all this time."

  "I thought she was the one who dumped you," Ryker says.

  "Well, technically, yes, but I was the one who..."

  I stop as I realize something. I give Ryker a questioning look.

  "How do you know she was the one who ended things between us? Did she tell you?"