The Atonement (The Arrangement, #3)(61)

There was a freedom that came with that. That came with burning it all down and rebuilding. Handpicking every part of your life, every person in your life.

“Did I hear Aunt Glennon?” Maisy cried from upstairs, sounding excited.

“That’s my cue,” she said, dashing away from us.

Matt kissed me again, this time on my lips. “Want to help me bring in the rest of the boxes?”

“It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of.” I chuckled. “I’ll be right there. I just have to take care of something first.”

He rubbed a finger over my cheek, then turned away and made his way out the door. I never thought anyone like Matt could make me happy. Someone so young, so unlike Peter. But his youth brought with it a sense of hope I’d never experienced. A kindness. An attentiveness. Matt treated me as if I was the sun and he was just glad to be in my orbit. The kids had taken a while to warm up to him, but they had. Glennon adored him. He was everything I needed in a package I’d never have chosen.

I mused over how perfectly things had worked out as I sifted through boxes, searching for one in particular that was labeled…

Collectibles—Ainsley

There it was.

I picked up the box and carried it up the stairs, passing Maisy and Glennon in one room as they deliberated over the perfect place to hang a photo, and Riley in the next room, already flopped down in a beanbag chair with a bag of potato chips. His brother sat next to him, laughing about something I hadn’t heard. I moved forward, finding the room that would be mine.

It felt strange. I’d be able to choose the side of the bed I wanted. The entire closet could be mine. I could choose every bit of the decor. There was no one around to argue with anymore.

And there never would be again.

I shut the door behind me, turning the lock, and placed the box on the floor. The old owners of our home had had a floor safe installed, where they’d kept their gun close to their bed. When the realtor had shown it to me, I’d known instantly this was the one.

I reached into the box and retrieved the old black bag, unzipping it and staring inside. It was empty now, all of Peter’s treasures long gone, but I now understood the appeal.

The treasures remind us they were real.

Inside of the bag, there was an envelope.

I pulled it out, checking over my shoulder once to be sure I wasn’t being watched. Then, I turned the envelope over and, with a huff of relieved breath, the kind of breath only freedom could bring, I let the tuft of brown hair fall into my palm.

Now, there really were no more secrets.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE





AINSLEY





SIX MONTHS EARLIER





I sat outside the corporate office of my old job with butterflies in my belly. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous. I had this under control. Tina said Burt wanted to talk to me about a new position that was opening up now that I was settled into our new apartment. When they’d initially refused to transfer me, I’d taken a job as a secretary at a legal firm, anything to make sure I had income and insurance again, but I couldn’t deny that I missed doing what I loved. What I was good at.

If they’d offer me a job again, I’d take it in a heartbeat.

I’d flown back to Nashville to talk to him in person, as he wanted to make absolutely sure the person heading up their newest branch was a great fit, according to Tina.

I crossed the street cautiously, a lump in my throat.

I’d never been so nervous.

“Good morning,” the receptionist greeted me from behind thick-framed glasses. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here for a meeting with Burt Stover. I’m Ainsley Greenburg.”

“Okay, just a minute.” He raised the phone to his ear, dialing two digits. “Mr. Stover, I have a Ms. Greenburg here to see you. Excellent. I’ll send her up.” He hung up the phone and gestured toward the elevators to my left. “You’ll take these elevators to the third floor and turn to your right. You’ll see the HR waiting area at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you,” I said, patting the counter and making my way toward the elevator. Once the doors had shut, I inhaled, releasing the breath slowly. It was all going to be okay.

Following his instructions, I turned right, spying a waiting area behind a glass wall. I walked into the room, knocking cautiously. A plump woman with short blonde hair grinned at me.

“You’re Mrs. Greenburg?”

“Ms.,” I corrected. “And yes.”

“Mr. Stover is expecting you. You can go straight back. His office is the last one on your left.” She pointed down a hallway to our right. “Would you like a bottle of water or anything?”

“I’m okay. Thank you.” I clasped my hands together, my heels clicking on the tile floor as I made my way down the dark hall. His name was printed in black on the glass of the door and, when I reached it, I knocked.

“Come in.” The voice sent chills down my spine. I hesitated.

Breathe. You can do this.

I pushed the door open, my body going rigid as I saw the man waiting for me.

“Peter?”

“No,” he said, standing up, both hands on the desk in front of him. “Burt Stover.”

“H-how?” A block of ice settled in my core.