Clara's fingers drifted to the spot on her forehead, where his lips had brushed. She traced it absently, almost as if she could feel the warmth still there. A smile tugged at her mouth, unwanted, but impossible to stop.
She couldn't deny that Ethan was a good looking man. He always had been, even back in high school, he had been popular with girls, tall and sharply built, with a quiet authority that seemed to follow him everywhere. Over the years, there had never been much gossip about his dating life, almost none, in fact. But she knew women noticed him. Some of her own colleagues had shamelessly admired him whenever he appeared in the news. She remembered the comments, the teasing. If only we had a boss like that here.
It was dangerous. The closer they became, the more complicated things could get. And then there was Cade.
Her hand moved from her forehead to the nightstand drawer. She pulled out the folder she had saved his baby pictures in. The images were worn from how many times she had looked at them, of the tiny, helpless newborn swaddled in hospital blankets, his little fingers curled into perfect fists.
Where could he be?
Are you happy, Cade? Are you loved?
The questions pressed into her chest until she couldn't breathe. Before she knew it, tears slid down her cheeks. They came quietly at first, but then faster, and she let them fall. She felt hollow, like the sadness was eating her from the inside out.