The email arrived on a Friday morning in early June.
Sienna was working from a coffee shop near Alessandro's apartment—her own place had better wifi, but she'd been spending most nights at his lately, and somewhere along the way his refrigerator had started stocking her brand of orange juice and her favorite overnight creamer—when her phone chimed with a new message.
The sender name made her stomach drop.
James Whitmore.
She hadn't heard that name in four years. Hadn't thought about him in longer. James had been her boyfriend before Alessandro. Before everything. The stable, sensible relationship she'd been in when she met Alessandro at that charity gala and felt the world tilt sideways on its axis, like something inside her had been waiting her whole life for that exact collision.
