Chapter 1

Alice's POV

I stood in the backyard, watering the potted tulips. Six in the morning, and Seaview was still quiet, just the way I liked it.

Who would've thought that three years ago, I was someone's kept woman?

I set down the watering can and stared at the tulips. They were the same kind he used to buy for the penthouse. Back then, I had a closet full of designer clothes, a platinum credit card with no limit, and a view of the city skyline from the 42nd floor.

I also had a man who never said he loved me.

Stop it, Alice. That life is over.

I shook my head, forcing the memories away. That was then. This was now. I had Rosie, I had my little bookstore, I had a life that was mine. Sure, it wasn't glamorous. My car was a beat-up Toyota, my wardrobe came from discount stores, and some months I barely made rent. But it was real. It was safe.

And no one here knew that I'd run away because of something I'd overheard, something that made me realize I was nothing more than a placeholder.

"Mommy!"

Rosie's voice cut through my thoughts. I turned to see her bursting through the back door, her curly hair bouncing, still in her pajamas printed with little daisies.

"Good morning, baby." I crouched down as she threw herself into my arms.

"Is Miss Maria taking me to the park today?" Her gray-blue eyes looked up at me hopefully.

My chest tightened like it always did when I saw those eyes. Four years old, and she was starting to look more like him every day. Thank God no one here knew him.

"Yes, honey. Mommy has to go to the market to get supplies for the shop. You'll have fun with Miss Maria, okay?"

"Will you bring me candy?"

I laughed, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Maybe one piece. But just one."

"Okay!" She kissed my cheek and ran back inside, probably to find her favorite toy.

I stood up slowly, looking at the small bookstore attached to our house. The sign out front read "Page & Petal" in hand-painted letters, my own little haven that doubled as a coffee shop. It wasn't much, but I'd built it with my own hands. Well, with my own hands and the money from selling the flower shop he'd bought me.

By nine o'clock, the bookstore was open, and the smell of fresh coffee filled the air. Warm yellow lights, wooden shelves crammed with secondhand books, mismatched chairs.

The bell chimed, and Maria walked in with her usual bright smile. She was in her fifties, a local who'd become my closest friend since I moved here. She didn't know about my past. As far as this town was concerned, I was just a young single mom who'd moved here for a fresh start.

"Good morning, Alice! Ready for me to take the little troublemaker?" Maria hung her purse on the coat rack.

"She's waiting for you in the back. Fair warning, she's been talking about candy all morning."

Maria laughed. "Oh, I heard about some excitement yesterday. Apparently a very handsome man moved into the Sea View Hotel. The whole town's buzzing."

My hand froze while wiping down the counter. "A businessman? In this town?"

"I know, right? Usually we only get retirees and summer tourists. But Sandra at the hotel said he's here for some kind of investment project. Drives a fancy black car, Mercedes or BMW, something expensive." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "And apparently he's very good-looking. But also seems kind of... sad? Like he's got a lot on his mind."

My heart started beating faster.

"That's... that's nice. Maybe he'll help the local economy." I tried to sound casual.

Maria tilted her head, studying me. "Alice, you look pale. Are you feeling okay? I can watch the shop if you need to rest."

"No, no. I'm fine. Just didn't sleep well last night." I forced a smile. "You should take Rosie to the park before it gets too hot."

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded. "Alright. Come on, Rosie! Park time!"

After they left, I stood behind the counter, gripping the edge until my knuckles turned white.

It's not him. It can't be him. You're being paranoid, Alice.

But the anxiety wouldn't leave.

The afternoon dragged by slowly. I tried to focus on organizing books, helping customers, making coffee.

By the time they came back at five, the sun was setting. I was in the small living room attached to the shop, chopping vegetables for dinner, when I heard Rosie's excited squeals.

"Mommy! Mommy! Something amazing happened today!"

She burst through the door like a little tornado, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Maria followed, smiling but looking a bit uncertain.

"What happened, baby?" I put down the knife and crouched to her level.

"I met the nicest man ever! He was so handsome, Mommy, like a prince in my storybooks!" She grabbed my hands, bouncing on her toes. "My balloon flew away, the pink one, and I was so sad, but then this man, he chased it for me! He ran so fast!"

My mouth went dry. "A... a man helped you?"

"Yes! And Mommy—" Her eyes went wide with wonder. "He has the same color eyes as me! Gray-blue! Just like when I look in the mirror!"

I gripped her hands tighter than I meant to.

"Are you okay, Mommy? You look funny."

"I'm fine, sweetie." My voice didn't sound like my own. "Did... did this man say his name?"

She shook her head. "No, but he was so nice. He said maybe one day he'd have a little girl too, and he hoped she'd be as sweet as me!" She was practically glowing. "Can I see him again?"

"Rosie, honey, this town is small. He's probably just visiting. He'll leave soon." I tried to sound gentle.

Maria cleared her throat. "Alice, I should mention, he offered to drive us home. Very polite about it. But I said no since you might worry about strangers. He seemed disappointed but understood."

"Thank you," I whispered. "That was... that was the right call."

After Maria left, I made dinner mechanically, barely hearing Rosie's chatter about her "handsome prince." My hands shook as I stirred the pasta.

It can't be him. It's just a coincidence. Lots of people have gray-blue eyes.

But deep down, a small voice whispered: What if it is?

The next morning, I woke up with a knot in my stomach that wouldn't go away. I'd barely slept, tossing and turning, my mind conjuring up scenarios I didn't want to think about.

"Mommy, can we go to the flower market today?" Rosie asked over breakfast, syrup smeared on her cheek. "I want to help you pick flowers!"

I hesitated. Usually I went alone while she stayed with Maria. But something made me say yes, maybe I wanted to keep her close after yesterday's scare.

"Okay, baby. Finish your pancakes and we'll go."

The flower market was in full swing when we arrived at seven. Vendors shouting prices, the smell of fresh blooms mixing with morning coffee, tourists and locals browsing colorful stalls. We walked toward my favorite tulip vendor.

"Look, Mommy! Purple ones!" She tugged at my hand, pulling me toward a particularly vibrant display.

"Hold on, sweetheart, let me just—"

But she'd already let go, darting toward the stall.

"Rosie! Wait!"

I hurried after her, dodging other shoppers. And then I grabbed her.

She was standing next to a tall figure crouched by the tulips. A man in an expensive dark jacket, his back to me.

"Handsome Uncle! It's you!" Rosie's delighted shriek cut through the market noise.

The man turned around.

And my entire world stopped.

No.

Adrian Smith. The man who'd kept me for three years. The man whose child I'd run away with. The man I'd been hiding from.

He was here. In my town. Holding my daughter's hand.