arted at Ei

t like armor. The wind cut through her sweater, raising gooseflesh on her arms, but she couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel

rain falling in sheets that turned the sidewalk into a river. She ducked beneath the awning of a restaurant s

seen anything worth noticing. The sight twisted something inside her-a bitter, burning resentment not just for what she'd lost, but for what she'd never even had. Three years. Three years of trying to be worthy of a love that was never on offer. Now she had nothing. No home, no husband, and-she checked her banking app-three hundred dollar

hrough. Her hair plastered to her skull, her sweater heavy with water, her jeans chafing against her thi

than most people made in a year. The driver emerged with an umbrella the size of a small tent, o

e street, making the buildings feel smaller. He wore a black suit that fit him like it had been sewn onto his bod

stopped h

r immediately, across the distance of the sidewalk and the rain and the impossible gulf between their lives. Dark eyes, patient ey

to call. Her parents were dead. Her friends had been Blair's friends first, and she had lost them in the divorce she had just signed away. She had three hundred dollars in her checking account and a sketchbook full of bui

ped into

She cleared her throat,

ng. But the man-the tall man with the patient eyes-stoppe

s, carrying mascara in black rivers across her cheeks. She knew what she lo

ccented with something she couldn't place. Not

ed insane, impossible, like something from a mov

against the umbrella, against the awni

sion, that slight elevation of dark brows, but it transformed

use

trouble. I can be whatever you need me to be for public appearances. We can divorce whenever you want, however you want. I just need-" She g

he turning of those broad shoulders, the closing of that restaurant door. She expected to wake up in a

ldn't name. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and in the gray light, she could see that he was younger than she had thought-perhaps thirt

e?" he

ction, for ridicule, for the thousand ways this could

out before she could polish it. "And becaus

lked away from pity. Something closer to recognition, as if he

belatedly. "My name

rmation was shocking-a warmth that reached his eyes, that softened the sharp planes of his face int

d his sui

body, smelling of something expensive-sandalwood, maybe, or cedar-and underneath it, the clean scent of rain on wool. His hands brushed her collarbone as

river, without looking aw

drip from her hair onto the floor mats. She should apologize for that. She should apologize for everything-the interruption, the insanity

d her mouth, he ha

"It's creating a modern a

issue to her face, scrubbing at the black streaks. "I'm sorry. For all of this. You don't have to-I mea

before, like it meant something. "I don't say thin

uld be-I don't know-a con artist.

e y

N

into the compartment between their seats, withdrew a bottle

ting of nothing but itself. "You didn't a

amber pools on wet pavement. "I have reasons," he said finally. "They don't concern you. What concerns you is that I can offer you

in re

on. You maintain the fiction." He turned back to her, and his dark eyes held something

me bored, all of them looking like they belonged together in ways she and Austen never would. Hadley filled out form

id, sliding papers across the counter. "Both parties sign. There's a tw

from his jacket pocket-his jacket, she realized, that he had given to her, and he was now wearing

hen at Austen, her eyes widening slightly as she recognized a name or a seal Hadley couldn

hambers at eight o'clock on a rainy November night. She was learning that there were questions Austen Roy answe

he corners when he smiled. "Austen, my boy," he said, shaking hands warmly.

notice, Arthur," Austen cut him off g

ked page. "Dearly beloved," he began, then caught himself, laughed. "Old habits. Le

d

ion of reality, as Austen spoke those two syllables. She thought of Blair, of the champagne popping, of the pearl n

take this man to be your

t had agreed to this madness without demanding explanations. At the hands

d

k, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The judge clo

and law, by desperation and convenience, by something neither of them could yet name. Then he le

family, Mrs. R

ng where raindrops had fallen from her hair. Hadley stared at it in the car, at t

aloud. "From divorced to

d reclaimed his jacket, but the heater

ded the certificate carefully, tucked it

d that transforming smile.