Prologue

Lisa's POV

I stood outside the morgue on that May evening, unable to believe my senses. It was like every normal day, nothing changed. The sun was already ducking behind fluffy clouds that reminded me of the dough I abandoned back home, on the kitchen island next to Emilie's elbow. The sky was stained with the reds and pinks of an approaching dusk. The spring breeze ruffled my chestnut shoulder length hair, and like the previous day, I could smell rain in the air. Except that Keith, my husband, who was supposed to be at home, is in there. Lying cold, dead, in a freezer.

"Have you heard anything from Damien all these while?" Emilie had asked two hours ago, when we both were in my kitchen, and I was lining up my ingredients for my chocolate chip cookies. Flour, sugar, butter, eggs. Right then, baking had become more than just one of my hobbies. Since my baby bump got bigger, and Emilie, Keith even, had encouraged me to take a break from managing my restaurant, Duke's Table, baking had become a kind of avoidance tactic. A way to deflect the troubles of my marriage with Keith. A vehicle of stress release. A break from real life. An art of delicious distraction that wasn't quite potent anymore as soon as Emilie had mentioned Damien's name. I had wished my heart did not skip a dozen beats at the mention of my husband's brother. I had wished I did not remember the melted caramel colored eyes and sharp cheekbones on his tawny face, and his lips on mine. I would have paid good money to say I did not want him to kiss me, that I hadn't ever wanted him to, but the embarrassing truth was that I did want it. I had liked the kiss. I had liked him too.

"Hello? Earth to Elisabeth?" Emilie had waved her small hand in my face. I hadn't realized I was spacing out. "I didn't know you missed him so much."

I'd ignored the shame clawing up my throat and plopped the stick of butter in a bowl, dumping a cup of sugar on top of it. "Shut up. You sound like my mother. She's the only one that calls me Elisabeth. And who says I miss Damien? What did you think I would hear from him, and why?"

Emilie had lowered her jaw into the vee of her hands with her elbows propped up at the countertop, grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. "Because right now, your ears are redder than apples."

"Are they? I highly doubt that." I'd dipped my head and focused on the bowl of butter and sugar. Initially I'd intended to use the mixer, but instead I had taken a fork and attacked the butter, mashing it together with the sugar with harsh, almost violent, strokes. I did miss him. So much. We were buddies after all. But I did not want to hear from him. Not when his brother had almost walked in on us kissing, and had still suspected we were having an affair. Not when I still laid in bed some nights with that kiss playing over and over in my head, right beside my husband.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lisa." The words had rushed out of Emilie's mouth faster than a gazelle hellbent on escaping death that waited between a leopard's jaws as she'd waved both hands frantically in front of her. "The baby, remember? We need you both whole, and healthy. Stress-free. I believe that's what that mixer over there exists for." She had gestured to the mixer encased in a glass walled cupboard. The mixer it had somehow skipped my mind to take out of there. Emilie had dashed to the cupboard to get it out for me. I'd exhaled, thrown my hands up in surrender, and set the bowl of butter and sugar onto the stand mixer.

"Yes, you're welcome." Emilie'd returned to her former position at the kitchen island, right in front of me. "He's just as hot as Keith so I won't blame you." She had slipped a chunk of her beachy blonde locks behind her right ear. "But that's not all I've got to say. I heard from Jenna Gonzalez he's dating Ally Rose now. Remember the girl with pink streaks in her hair and the sudden glow up last summer?"

Yeah, I did remember. I'd also remembered I went to school with the then lanky, awkward teenager, and she accused me of stealing her prom date, proceeding to embarrass me afterwards. But that strangely did not bother me as much as the news about Damien in a relationship with her did. I'd taken deep, measured breaths to regulate the way my heart twisted and thrummed in my ribcage, and refused to acknowledge the envy that had to do with all that.

"Wow. That's… romantic."

"Jenna says they met somewhere in Tennessee. At a bar or something."

"Yeah right." Jenna does know everything afterall. She's called the collector of secrets for a reason. And thanks to her, Emilie's feeding me juicy gossip. That had been basically how I'd spent long, lonely days, pregnant and trapped in a ginormous house. Except that particular gossip had been sour to my ears. I'd grabbed a drinking glass nearby and filled it with water, taking small sips as I fixated on the mixer doing it's job. Another embarrassing truth: it didn't matter if Ally Rose had been the woman he's with or not. What had mattered, and slightly got me pissed had been that I wasn't that woman.

"You really do like this guy," Emilie'd observed.

"Not that it matters." I'd set down the glass of water on the white granite island to bring down the mixing bowl and throw the rest of the ingredients into it. "I'm married, Em. To his brother. We already have… well, we're on our way to having a baby together." I'd swiped a hand down my body to encompass my bulging tummy poking at the floor length chiffon gown I had on. "That kiss was…" Superb. Intoxicating, despite the short time it lasted. I'd forced myself to bite it out, in spite of myself. "... a mistake. And Keith sure as hell will be mad if he finds out. Trust me, Em, you don't want to see Keith mad."

The solemn look on her face had let me know she understood. "I'll go preheat the oven for you." She'd moved adjacent to the counter, where the oven was located. Then she'd stopped in her tracks, and spun around to face me. "I'm really sorry I brought that up…"

"You did nothing wrong, Em…"

"It must be hard having a thing for a man while married to his brother. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done if I was married to Nolan's brother while I'm still crazy in love with him…"

"Emilie!"

"Though I must admit it's thrilling. Like something out of a movie. Or Mills and Boon."

I'd snorted, "If I saw that in a movie, I would trash it."

"Gosh, don't you feel like a rebel sometimes?"

"One more word, and I will make sure to waste this dough on you," I'd threatened.

"If you actually can," she'd taunted, sticking out her tongue at me. I'd shaken my fist right back in mock menace.

"I was thinking, what if, by a sheer stroke of destiny, or luck, you somehow had a chance with Damien? What will you do then?"

That had been when, as if in answer, my phone had vibrated on the kitchen island. I'd picked the call to receive the news of Keith's demise.

Emilie walked up beside me, concern and sympathy creasing up her features. Her eyes were slowly welling up with tears. "I'm so sorry, girl, I'm so sorry." She enveloped me in a tight hug, as tight as the protrusion on my tummy would let her. "This is so sudden I don't know what else to say."

I too was dumbfounded. I merely put an arm around her waist, and watched from over her shoulder as my father-in-law, Demetrius, headed to his car with a sullen expression, and hurriedly also, like did not want anyone to witness him cry. He had also come over to identify Keith's body. Like every parent would be at the death of their children, he was heartbroken.

Overhead, the sky darkened at the appearance of gray rain clouds that lent more gloom to the atmosphere. Emilie noticed too, because she pulled away from me with a sob, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of her red woollen sweater. "We should head home, Lisa. It looks like it will rain soon."

The fat raindrop that hit my cheek felt like a pebble, and soon, sooner than perhaps Emilie expected, the clouds gave way to a pelting shower. Emilie immediately swung her arm around my shoulders and propelled me to her car parked under a whistling pine, while the rain, already burst free from the clouds, seeped into my clothes. It probably was unfair to all who loved Keith, but I identified with the rain that was no longer trapped within the clouds. I was free.