Salvation (27 page)
She loved Logan so much, though. Josh had loved him too.
Logan stared up at her now with wide brown eyes in a chubby face. He twisted in an ornery way when she just stood and looked at him. Then he started to scream.
A perfectly reasonable thing to do when you were hungry.
Zoe picked him up and carried him to the rocker to nurse him, trying not to remember the look on her husband’s face last week, the last time he had been conscious, when Logan had babbled syllables that sounded very much like “Dada.”
Logan was suckling greedily, dribbling a little breast milk as he did, and Zoe stroked his fine dark hair and tried not to fall back to sleep.
She hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since Logan was born.
When he’d finished, she burped him and laid him back in the crib, turning on the musical mobile of animals so he could watch it. He was giggling happily at the mobile as she jumped into the shower.
Long showers were something she hadn’t enjoyed since Logan was born either, so three minutes later she was done. She blew her hair just halfway dry and then pulled it back into a knot at the nape her neck. Until recently, it had always been smooth and shiny, falling nearly to her waist, but now it looked dull and lifeless. She added a little makeup, although her face was so pale and the dark smudges beneath her chocolate-brown eyes were so deep there wasn’t much she could do to improve her appearance.
She’d lost too much weight over the past several months, and the navy blue suit she put on—which had been stylish and fit her perfectly when she’d bought it two years ago—was now too loose around the hips and waist and looked rather drab.
It didn’t matter, though. There wasn’t anyone she wanted to impress. She just wanted to get through this day without collapsing in exhaustion.
She was changing Logan’s diaper when her phone rang again.
“Mrs. Peterson?” a man said when she picked up. The doorman to the building.
“Yes.”
“The car is here.”
She thanked him and hurriedly dressed Logan in a little gray suit. Then she put him in his carrier, grabbed the bag she’d already packed with all his stuff, and rushed downstairs.
A black luxury sedan from a car service waited at the curb. As she hauled her baby carrier and bag across the sidewalk, a man got out of the backseat.
Adam Peterson was as polished and handsome as the car he emerged from on the gray afternoon. No trace of the adorably geeky guy she’d eaten lunches with five years ago.
Without comment or greeting, he reached over to take Logan’s carrier and the bag as she climbed into the plush seat. Then he helped her attach the carrier into place.
“Do you need anything?” Adam asked as the car pulled into the street. His voice and his eyes were almost cool.
Zoe shook her head. “Thanks for picking me up. You didn’t have to.”
He slanted her a quick impatient look, as if she’d said something foolish, but he didn’t say anything.
Zoe didn’t say anything either.
She’d thought he liked her well enough back then, but the friendship obviously wasn’t lasting. Their temporary camaraderie at the café had gradually faded into distant civility as he started acting like a “real” Peterson. He’d become a corporate honcho, propelling the one little trivia game into a franchise empire, with hundreds of game versions for computers, gaming consoles, mobile apps, and social media platforms—plus merchandise in endless forms.
She assumed he’d just outgrown his friendliness toward her, the way he’d outgrown his camp shirts. It might also have had something to do with the lingering tension between Josh and Adam, which had heightened and lessened at different times during the years.
Either way, she hadn’t let it bother her. Her life had always been filled with so much more.
Four years ago, Zoe had married Josh Peterson.
And now she had to bury him.
***
You can find out more about Bittersweet
here
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N
oelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she teaches English, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.
She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances. For more information, please check out her website:
noelle-adams.com
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Other Books by Noelle Adams
