SERENA'S POV
The two wine glasses were still on the table when I came down in the morning.
Nobody had cleared them. Mine and his, sitting side by side at my end of the long table like a small monument to the strangest dinner of my life. I looked at them for a moment before I sat down. Then I turned my chair slightly so I wouldn't have to.
I'd barely slept. Most of the night I'd spent staring at the ceiling, turning the same thing over and over until it wore smooth.
The note was fake.
Luca had written it. He'd planted it in those lilies to see what I'd do, and I'd done exactly what he wanted me to do, which was reveal that I was still the kind of woman who slipped out of side doors. He thought he'd learned everything he needed from that. He thought he'd caught the thread and cut it clean.
But here was the thing he didn't know, the thing I'd held onto through the whole humiliating walk back to my pew with two candles burning behind me.
