Chapter 1 - “THAT’S MY MOTHER.”Noah Parker stared at the photograph in his hands.
For seven years, he had trained himself not to remember Grace Wilson.
Not her voice.
Not the way she used to tuck her hair behind her ear when she was nervous.
Not the little bookstore where they had first met.
And certainly not the night at Hartwell International when she had stood beneath the departure board with tears in her eyes and asked him not to leave.
But there she was.
Frozen in a photograph.
Young.
Smiling.
Beautiful.
And pregnant.
Noah's fingers tightened around the edges.
“Mr. Noah?”
Emily's voice sounded strangely far away.
He swallowed.
“Where did you get this?”
“My mom.”
“Your mother gave it to you?”
Emily nodded.
“She said I should keep it safe.”
Noah stared at the picture again.
Grace had been wearing the same blue sweater she had worn the night he left.
He remembered it suddenly.
Every detail.
The rain.
The coffee in her hand.
Her trembling voice.
Noah, please don't go.
And his own answer.
I'll be back.
He had meant it.
At least, he thought he had.
Then his company had nearly collapsed.
Investors had threatened to walk away.
His father had told him that love was a luxury poor men couldn't afford.
So Noah chose business.
Then another meeting.
Then another.
By the time he looked up, seven years had vanished.
He had never known Grace was pregnant.
He had never known there was a child.
And now that child was sitting beside him.
Emily tilted her head.
“You know my mom?”
Noah opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
“Mr. Noah?”
He forced himself to breathe.
“Yes.”
Emily's eyes widened.
“You do?”
Noah looked toward the airport doors.
“I knew someone who looked like your mother.”
“Really?”
“She was…”
He stopped.
How could he describe Grace without breaking the world apart?
“She was very important to me.”
Emily smiled.
“I knew it.”
Noah looked at her.
“What did you know?”
“That you looked sad when you saw the picture.”
Before Noah could answer, a woman's voice came from behind them.
“Emily?”
His entire body froze.
He knew that voice.
He had heard it in dreams.
Grace.
Noah slowly turned.
She stood thirty feet away beside the bookstore entrance.
Her hair was longer.
Her face was thinner.
There were faint lines around her eyes that had not been there seven years ago.
But it was her.
Grace Wilson.
She saw Noah.
The color drained from her face.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then her eyes fell to the photograph in his hand.
Her lips parted.
“No.”
Emily jumped off the bench.
“Mom!”
Grace didn't answer.
She walked toward them slowly.
Noah stood.
“Grace.”
She stopped.
Her expression hardened.
“Give me the photograph.”
Noah held it out.
She snatched it from his hand.
Then she grabbed Emily's shoulder.
“We're leaving.”
Emily looked confused.
“But, Mom—”
“Now.”
Noah stepped forward.
“Grace, please.”
She looked at him with seven years of anger behind her eyes.
“You have no right to say my name like nothing happened.”
“I didn't know.”
Her laugh was quiet and bitter.
“Of course you didn't.”
“I didn't know about Emily.”
Grace's expression changed.
Just slightly.
Emily looked between them.
“Mom?”
Grace took her hand.
“We're going home.”
Noah watched them walk away.
Then Emily suddenly turned.
“Mr. Noah!”
Grace stopped.
Emily called across the terminal.
“Are you my dad?”
The airport seemed to go silent.
Grace closed her eyes.
May you like
Noah stared at his daughter.
And for the first time in seven years, he realized the greatest deal of his life had never been worth what he had lost.
