Chapter 9: Grace

Dominic wanted me to spend the night at his place, but I decided to head home after the party. My ears still ring with laughter, chatter, and music. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Everyone was so warm and welcoming. Not only was it nice to reconnect with Chloe, but with others who'd also known my family before we moved to Seattle.

At one point, after many glasses of alcohol had been consumed, someone cranked up the sound system, and everyone started dancing.

To music from the eighties.

It's never good when people of a certain age start busting a move.

What am I saying? It was hilarious.

Even Dominic was out there shaking his moneymaker. Unable to resist, Chloe had dragged me out onto the makeshift dance floor as well. Chloe has never been able to resist the lure of dance music.

Everyone seemed to have a fantastic time.

Me, included.

Feeling tired, I stare out the window of the Range Rover as it moves through the city. I can't help but be enthralled by the lit-up buildings as we travel south. It's a captivating sight.

Listening to so many stories about my parents makes me feel nostalgic. I can't deny that my feelings are tinged at the edges with sadness. It's difficult to think about them without feeling sorrow. I enjoyed hearing every single memory their old friends and colleagues shared with me, but it's difficult because I know I won't ever see them again.

I'm finally ready to embark on a new phase of my life. One without them. They were there when I started college, but they didn't get to see me walk across the stage and graduate. Nor will they be there to celebrate any other milestone life has in store for me.

For that reason, there will always be something missing.

Before I realize it, we're pulling up to the front of Lexington Place. My new home. It doesn't feel like home yet, but it will with enough time. I scoot out of the SUV as Henry opens the door and head toward the building. George works the day shift. Someone else mans the door during the evenings. He's tall and gaunt-looking. With a smile in place, he tips his hat before allowing me inside. I call for the elevator, thinking about how good it will feel to take off all this finery and slide beneath the comfy cotton sheets I just purchased.

As I unlock the door to my condo, silence greets me. It's both a relief after the party, as well as a reminder that I'm on my own. No longer do I live with my parents. Nor do I share a dorm with a roommate. After two years of slogging uphill, trying to move past what happened, I'm finally moving forward again.

Slipping off the gorgeous silver heels, I hold them in my hand as I pad into the immense, open space of the living room. My sleek gray couch and two tufted chairs, along with a stylish glass coffee table, rest on a plush area rug. The long expanse of floor to ceiling windows remain unadorned. The glass is tinted. I'm able to see out, but no one can see in. It seems like a crime to cover such a gorgeous sight.

People pay millions for this kind of view.

The condo is over three thousand square feet, with three generously-sized bedrooms, a large, mahogany-paneled study, a huge gourmet kitchen with white cabinets and gray marble, a formal dining room with pillars and a coffered ceiling, and a living room with a tall, soaring ceiling. An ocean of dark, glossy hardwoods flow throughout the entire place and the ornate crown molding matches it.

I love it.

I can imagine myself being happy here someday.

As much as Dominic tried to cajole me into staying with him, he didn't have anything negative to say after touring this building. I think the heated swimming pool on the rooftop and gym on one of the lower floors impressed him. I feel incredibly lucky to have snagged this place.

I don't bother flicking on the lights. The illumination from the city shines through the windows. The view, even at night, is completely breathtaking. Every evening, around seven o'clock or so, I find myself gravitating to the terrace with a glass of wine.

It may be almost two in the morning, but I find myself drawn to the private patio. There's just something about the bustle of the city below. It never seems to sleep, no matter what time it is. I may be alone, but when I'm out there, watching the world unfold, I don't feel quite so lonely. I feel like I'm part of the irrepressible energy that is Chicago.

Even though I should be exhausted, I'm oddly restless.

Perhaps sipping a glass of wine on the terrace while enjoying the city is exactly what I need. I don't bother changing out of my gown. My hair is still piled on my head. The sapphire and diamond necklace shimmers against the paleness of my collarbone. Going to the butler's pantry, I pour myself a small glass of white. The need to feel the wind brushing over my cheeks pounds through me like a steady drumbeat.

Tonight feels like a turning point of sorts.

I moved in over a week ago and have done little things to make this place homier, but the party makes me feel like I really am moving on with my life. I think my parents would be proud of me. For graduating college, getting accepted at Northwestern, and pursuing my dreams of working for a museum.

Settling onto one of two chaise loungers I've recently acquired, I gaze out into the vast darkness. Although I'm right across from the lake, a long stretch of greenery separates me from Lakeshore Drive. Closing my eyes, I hear the churning of water over the sounds of traffic that never seem to stop.

There's something soothing about it.

Taking a sip of wine, I can't help but dwell on how far I've come in the past two years. There were times, especially during the first six months, when I didn't think I would make it. Times when I had wished I were dead and not struggling just to make it through another day.

Being on the other side, on the cusp of starting a brand-new life in a city that I've always considered to be my home and reconnecting with my best friend feels like a victory.

Life, I muse silently, goes on. No matter what happens, no matter how horrific the aftermath, it continues to unfold. That, I suppose, is the only thing that can be counted on.

As I sit, contemplating what the future holds and all of the infinite opportunities that suddenly feel exciting and possible, I hear the French door from the condo next to me open before closing with a resounding thud.

For just a heartbeat or so, my ears are met with silence.

I suspect that my neighbor, the attractive man I couldn't stop staring at in the elevator, has come out to enjoy the balmy evening as well. Summer will soon be over. Within a matter of weeks, the weather will begin to turn cooler. The cold crispness of autumn will be ushered in.

I can't say that I'm not looking forward to down jackets, Ugg boots, cashmere gloves, and colorful scarfs. Believe it or not, I've missed Midwestern winters. Seattle is more temperate. It has rain and gray skies rather than brilliant sunshine and glittering snow on bare tree branches.

I haven't seen Mr. Tall, Dark, and Ridiculously Handsome since making a fool out of myself by ogling him like a lovesick teenager. Trust me, I've been on the lookout. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I've loitered in the lobby. Naturally I couldn't just come out and ask George about my sexy new neighbor. Privacy is of utmost importance here at Lexington Place. But that doesn't mean my eyes didn't dart to the thick glass door every time George opened it.

Nevertheless, it was a fruitless endeavor.

There were no sightings of my neighbor.

Closing my eyes, I inhale a deep, calming breath. As the sound of the lake and the traffic continue washing over me, I hear the long, keening moan of a woman.