Chapter 2 - THE EMPTY HOUSE
Roman stopped beside the hospital bed.
“The baby?”
His voice had changed.
The man whose orders could silence an entire room suddenly sounded afraid of a four-word answer.
Amelia looked toward the dark window.
“Still alive.”
Roman closed his eyes.
Relief crossed his face.
He reached for her.
Amelia moved her hand away.
The movement was tiny.
It hurt him more than if she had slapped him.
“Don’t.”
“Amelia—”
“I said don’t.”
Roman stood motionless.
For three years, Amelia had been the one person who could touch him without permission. She could straighten his tie in front of his men. Steal food from his plate. Put her freezing feet beneath his legs in bed.
Now she looked at him as though the six feet between them belonged to another country.
“I made a tactical decision,” he said quietly.
Amelia laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You always have a word for everything.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“Then tell me what you meant.”
Roman glanced toward the doctor.
Amelia understood.
“You want privacy now?”
The doctor excused herself.
The door closed.
Roman pulled a chair closer but did not sit.
“Vanessa’s location was thirty-two minutes from relocation. Yours gave us approximately forty-five.”
“Approximately.”
“Yes.”
“And you trusted kidnappers to keep their schedule?”
“No.”
“But you trusted them enough to gamble with your wife.”
Roman flinched.
“The first team was seven minutes from Vanessa.”
“And the second was how far from me?”
His silence answered.
Amelia stared at him.
“Twelve minutes farther.”
“Yes.”
“Five minutes.”
“What?”
“You chose Vanessa for five minutes.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“It was exactly like that.”
Roman’s control finally cracked.
“Her father died because of me.”
“And I almost died because of you.”
He stopped.
Amelia pressed one hand against her stomach.
The monitor beside her continued its steady rhythm.
Roman looked at that hand.
His expression softened.
“I love you.”
She almost wished he had said something cruel.
Cruelty would have been easier.
“I know.”
Roman looked confused.
“That’s what makes this worse.”
She turned away.
Roman remained beside her for another twenty minutes.
She never looked back.
By morning, Vanessa had been discharged with twelve stitches and a concussion.
Roman stayed at the hospital.
Amelia was released two days later.
He brought the armored SUV himself.
She refused to ride with him.
Miles drove her home.
Roman followed in another car.
The Vale estate outside Baltimore had once made Amelia feel protected. That afternoon, the stone walls looked like a beautifully decorated prison.
Roman doubled security.
Amelia said nothing.
He assigned guards to every hallway.
She said nothing.
He moved meetings home so he could stay close.
She said nothing.
For eleven days, Amelia slept in the guest bedroom.
Roman slept nowhere.
At two in the morning, she would sometimes hear his footsteps outside her door.
He never knocked.
On the twelfth day, Vanessa came to the house.
Amelia found her in the sunroom.
Vanessa looked pale.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“For being kidnapped?”
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
“For everything.”
Amelia studied her.
Vanessa had always been beautiful in a polished, effortless way. Dark hair, expensive clothes, the confidence of a woman who had spent most of her life knowing Roman Vale would answer when she called.
“You didn’t make his decision,” Amelia said.
“No.”
Something in Vanessa’s tone made Amelia pause.
“But?”
Vanessa twisted a ring around her finger.
“Roman has always felt responsible for me.”
“I’m aware.”
“You think he loves me.”
Amelia looked at her.
“Do you?”
Vanessa didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
Amelia stood.
“I need to rest.”
“Amelia.”
She stopped at the doorway.
Vanessa’s eyes were wet.
“I never asked him to choose me.”
“No. You just never told him he shouldn’t.”
Amelia walked upstairs.
That night, Roman returned from a meeting at 11:40.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
He found Miles standing in the foyer.
“What happened?”
Miles looked uncomfortable.
“Boss—”
Roman saw the envelope on the table.
His name was written across it in Amelia’s handwriting.
He ripped it open.
Inside were three things.
Her wedding ring.
A signed authorization allowing Roman access to medical information only in a life-threatening emergency involving their unborn child.
And a note.
Roman read it once.
Then again.
I survived because I stopped waiting for you to save me.
I need to learn what my life looks like when I stop waiting for you to choose me, too.
There was no address.
No destination.
No request for money.
Roman ran upstairs.
Her closet was half empty.
The photograph from their honeymoon was gone.
So was the tiny pair of yellow baby socks Amelia had bought the morning she discovered she was pregnant.
Roman came downstairs with a face Miles had never seen before.
“Where is my wife?”
Miles swallowed.
“She dismissed her security detail at four.”
“You let her?”
“She’s your wife, Roman. Not a prisoner.”
Roman grabbed his phone.
Amelia’s number went directly to voicemail.
He called again.
Again.
Again.
At 12:17 a.m., he opened the location app they had once used jokingly to find each other in crowded restaurants.
Her phone appeared at the estate.
Roman followed the signal.
He found it on her pillow.
Beside it was a second note.
Only six words.
This time, don’t come after me.
Roman stood alone in the bedroom.
Then Miles heard something crash upstairs.
A moment later came another crash.
Then silence.
Roman emerged ten minutes later with blood running across his knuckles.
“Find her.”
Miles stared at him.
“She asked you not to.”
Roman’s eyes were terrifying.
“I’m not asking.”
What neither man knew was that Amelia was already eighty miles away.
She sat in the passenger seat of an old blue sedan while Baltimore disappeared behind her.
The woman driving glanced over.
“You sure about this?”
Amelia touched her stomach.
For the first time in years, the answer belonged entirely to her.
“Yes.”
Then the driver smiled.
“Good.”
Amelia looked at her.
“Thank you, Evelyn.”
May you like
Roman’s own aunt shifted into fifth gear.
And drove his missing wife into the night.
