Chapter 1
Lynne Simpson met Balfour Tobin when she was thirteen and married him at twenty–three.
Two years after their wedding, Balfour died in a plane crash, leaving her alone forever.}
But now, at forty–three, Lynne saw her husband–alive.
She had only wanted to see the northern lights one last time before she died.}
Instead, the tent next to hers kept shaking violently, punctuated by a woman’s uninhibited cries–so loud, she couldn’t sleep.
Just as she was about to step outside for some air, a sudden crash split the night–the neighboring tent collapsed right before her eyes.”
A man emerged first, his face gentle, protectively wrapping a flushed woman in his arms.
Lynne’s feet felt rooted to the ground, unable to take another step.
The man’s eyes, warm and smiling, met hers–and the smile slowly faded away.
In that instant, Lynne understood everything.
But before she could demand answers through her tears, an avalanche thundered down the mountainside, threatening to bury them all. In that desperate moment, Balfour shielded Lynne and the other woman behind him.
His last words hung between them like a blade:}
“My life settles my debt to you. If time rewound, I’d never have married you so young. I would’ve waited… for her.“}
When Lynne opened her eyes again, it was the first year of her marriage to Balfour.
She sat numbly on the sofa, staring at the familiar furniture around her, Balfour’s last words still echoing in her ears.
A dull ache in her chest twisted sharply, as if a knife was lodged in her heart, making it almost impossible to breathe.
Balfour hadn’t died after all.
He’d just chosen to spend the rest of his life with another woman.
Everything had happened so suddenly–so fast, she hadn’t even managed to ask him why.
The phone rang. Moving as if in a dream, Lynne picked it up.
“Honey, Sexton’s invited us to dinner tonight. Get ready early, I’ll pick you up after work.“}
Balfour’s affectionate voice calling her “honey” made Lynne feel, for a fleeting moment, that everything before had been nothing but a nightmare.
Balfour arrived right on time. As soon as he walked in, he pulled Lynne into a tight embrace.}
“You’re freezing,” he murmured, “Why are you shaking?“}
Lynne looked at him with sorrowful eyes. But now, standing before this younger Balfour, she couldn’t even bring herself to ask that single, aching question–why?%
He wasn’t the Balfour of forty–four, the one with answers.
On the passenger seat, a box of cakes waited–her old favorites, which Balfour had picked up in advance.
When she didn’t reach for them, Balfour shot her a puzzled look.
‘Aren’t you going to have one?”
Lynne lowered her eyes and tied the bag shut. “Too much sugar. I’m not in the mood.”
Balfour didn’t know that after his “death,” Lynne had stopped eating sweets altogether. The taste of sugar on her tongue only turned bitter after everything melted away.❞
The cakes in front of her dragged her back to cold reality. She stared at Balfour, letting him take her left hand and kiss it gently.§
“What are you looking at?”
Lynne didn’t answer.
She only wondered–when had this man, who once loved her so much, fallen for someone else? When had he decided to fake his own death and leave her behind?%
At the restaurant, Balfour led her by the hand to their private room. As they passed another suite, the door was ajar.
From where they stood, Lynne caught a glimpse of the smoke-filled room inside–a jumble of laughter and men egging each other on to drink
She barely glanced inside, but Balfour suddenly stopped in his tracks.&
hapter
Lynne bumped into his arm, frowning as she looked up at him–only to see his face, dark and unsettling.
“I forgot something in the car, honey. Go on ahead.“}
Balfour spun around and hurried off, not even bothering to tell her which room was theirs.}}
Lynne watched his retreating figure, her gaze growing cold and distant.”
She’d checked before they got out–there was nothing left in the car.”
Balfour was lying to her.
And in all their years together, this was the first time he’d ever lied.}
