"You know London Fashion Week is next week," Sean said.

"Mhmm," she answered, turning another page.

​​

"Why don't you come with me?" he asked. "You can get inspiration in person instead of from magazines."

"Really?" she asked. "You have the tickets?"

"I can get them," he answered.

She shook her head in amazement, "It seems there's nothing you can't get."

"That's not entirely true," he replied, his voice low.

She lifted her eyes from the page and stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"No matter how I try, it seems I can't get you," he answered.

She bit her lip but couldn't bring herself to look away from him. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was something sad in his face.

"Tell me," he said. "How do I get you?"

"I—Sean—I," she stammered. "It's complicated."

"How?" he asked, moving toward her. "I'm a man, and you're a woman. We're married. And I want you, Catherine. I want you terribly."

"I'm not ready," she objected.

"I know," he said. "But when will you be ready? Don't you know it's torture to feel your body against mine every night when we sleep? Don't you know how hard it is to restrain myself when your soft skin touches mine?"

Catherine shivered at his words.

"Marriage is too complicated," she finally said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Look at Linda," she said. "She gave everything to her husband—her youth, her love, her loyalty, her unwavering dedication, and where did that get her? He treated her well for a year or so, and then everything he changed. She continued to give him everything she had, but he didn't care. He abused her and insulted her and took every chance he could to hurt her."

She felt her eyes fill with tears. Without warning, memories flashed through her mind, but they weren't memories of Linda and tom—they were memories of her and Marco from her past life.

"Tell me something," she said. "What can a woman like her do? Once a woman chooses a man, she loses all her power. Linda could have had a great life, but she chose the wrong man, and now she's miserable."

"Catherine, look at me," Sean said, his voice low and serious.

She lifted her head to meet his gaze and shivered. His blue eyes were full of an intensity she'd never seen before. His jaw was clenched, and his face was pale.

"I'm not like him," Sean said, his eyes blazing even brighter.

"I know," she whispered.

"Do you?" he asked. "I'm not Tom, and you're nothing like Linda. Not all marriages are like that."

"You're right," she whispered, suddenly embarrassed by her tears. "I think I'm just tired—it's been an emotional day."

"We're not them," Sean said again. "And I'll wait until you're ready—I can be a man of great patience. And I swear that when it finally happens, nothing will change between us. I won't become like Tom. Ever."

"Okay," she whispered.

"I'll show you," he said.

She turned out her bedside light and settled into the pillow. Emotions churned in her chest, but as soon as her eyes closed, she drifted into a deep sleep.

***

In the morning, Sean was gone. She got up, dressed quickly, and asked Geoffrey to drive her to the hospital. Once there, she raced down the long white halls and burst into Linda's room.

The room was large and shockingly white. The walls were white, the floors were spotlessly white, and Linda's pale face looked almost as white as the surroundings. Sophia sat in a white chair at the side of the bed, holding her mother's pale hand. As Catherine entered, she lifted her head, revealing dark purple circles beneath her eyes.

"I brought you some food," Catherine said, offering Sophia a lunch box filled with breakfast. "Have you eaten anything at all?"

Sophia shook her head.

"Have you slept?" Catherine asked.

Sophia shook her head again.

"You can't make yourself sick caring for her," Catherine said. "Starving yourself and staying up all night won't help her get better."

"I just didn't want to leave her alone," Sophia said.

Catherine sighed, "Well, now you have food. Eat, and I'll talk."

Sophia took the lunchbox and looked through it, taking a thermos of porridge and some sliced fruit. She picked at the food, taking smaller and smaller bites.

"Listen, Tom is being detained at the police station," she said. "I guess they can hold him for a while based on the witness statements they have, but if you don't press charges, they have to let him go. I talked to Sean, and he promised to have his lawyers help with everything. Since Linda is unconscious, she can't do anything, but it would help if you pressed charges too."

"Of course," Sophia said flatly. "I'll press charges."

"Good," she said. "I know he's your father, but—"

Sophia lifted her head, and her green eyes flashed, "That man isn't my father. I may share his genes, but he is nothing like a father to me. I would have left him long ago if it wasn't for my mother."

"Okay," she said. "The most important thing now is Linda's health. Sean's lawyers will handle Tom, and the doctors will help Linda."

"I'll pay you back, Catherine," Sophia said. "I don't have any money now, but I'll start working, and I swear I'll eventually pay it all back."

"Don't even think of it," Catherine said. "Just let me know when your mom wakes up."

***

Catherine sat in her small office, listening to the buzz of the broken fluorescent light above her. Crumpled and torn papers covered her desk and the small rubbish bin overflowed with balled up pages from her sketch pad. She was blocked—she couldn't think of a single design. Her phone buzzed in her purse, and she rummaged for it.

"Hello?" she said.

"She's awake," Sophia shouted through the phone. "Mum is awake!"

"I'll be there soon," she said.

She ended the call with Sophia, sent a quick text to Sean, and raced out of her office, down the hall, and to the garage. She found Geoffrey waiting for her and quickly ordered the bodyguard to drive her to the hospital. On the ride, her heart pounded in her chest. It had been days, but Linda was finally awake.