Chapter 1 - The Empty Seat Beside MeSix weeks earlier, Dakota woke at two in the morning and reached across the bed.
Adam’s side was empty.
At first, she assumed he was downstairs working. He had been spending longer hours at Hawthorne Financial, where he served as regional director. He often complained about quarterly reports, demanding clients, and board members who expected him to answer emails at impossible hours.
Dakota slipped on her robe and walked into the hallway.
The house was silent.
There was no light beneath Adam’s office door.
His shoes were gone from the entryway.
So were his car keys.
Dakota stood in the dark kitchen, listening to the refrigerator hum.
At 2:17 a.m., she sent him a message.
Are you okay?
He replied eleven minutes later.
Emergency meeting. Didn’t want to wake you. Go back to sleep.
Dakota stared at the screen.
Hawthorne Financial did not hold emergency meetings at two in the morning.
She knew that because she had helped Adam through seven years at the company. She had listened to every complaint, attended every dinner, and memorized the names of executives who barely remembered hers.
Still, she forced herself to believe him.
Trust, she had always thought, was a decision.
You chose it every day.
The next morning, Adam arrived home carrying two coffees and wearing the same suit he had worn to dinner.
He kissed Dakota’s forehead.
“Sorry about last night.”
“What happened?”
“Client crisis.”
“Which client?”
Adam hesitated for less than a second.
“Redmont Industries.”
Dakota nodded.
She knew Redmont Industries had ended its contract with Hawthorne three months earlier.
Adam did not know she knew.
She accepted the coffee anyway.
During breakfast, he spoke about an upcoming business trip to Miami. According to Adam, Hawthorne was considering him for an executive position overseeing the entire East Coast region.
“It could change everything for us,” he said.
Dakota watched him spread butter across a piece of toast.
“Everything?”
“More money. Better connections. Maybe we finally move out of this neighborhood.”
Dakota looked around their kitchen.
She had chosen the pale cabinets herself. She had spent months saving for the marble island and restoring the old wooden floors. The house was not enormous, but it was warm, beautiful, and entirely paid for—mostly because Dakota had continued flying while Adam built his career.
“I like this neighborhood,” she said.
Adam sighed as though she had disappointed him.
“You never think bigger.”
The comment landed harder than it should have.
Dakota had spent fifteen years working for Atlantic Crown Airlines. She had started in economy service, taken every difficult route offered to her, and earned a position in first class. She spoke three languages, trained new crew members, and had once helped deliver a baby over the Atlantic.
Yet lately, Adam spoke about her job as if she merely handed out drinks.
He checked his watch.
“I have to go.”
Dakota noticed a faint pink stain near the collar of his shirt.
It could have been makeup.
It could have been nothing.
She reached toward it.
Adam stepped back.
“What?”
“There’s something on your collar.”
He glanced down and quickly folded the collar inward.
“Probably from one of the women at the office. We had to squeeze into the elevator during the fire alarm.”
Dakota said nothing.
Adam picked up his briefcase.
“Don’t wait up tonight.”
The front door closed behind him.
Dakota remained in the kitchen, holding the untouched coffee he had brought her.
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For the first time in nine years of marriage, trusting Adam no longer felt like a decision.
It felt like a lie she was telling herself.
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