Chapter 5

Autumn Lancaster POV

Three days later, I met Adrian Cooper.

He was my high school classmate. We'd sat at the same desk for two days.

Back then he was the poorest student in class, wearing faded old clothes, eating only the cheapest bread for lunch.

I was the Lancaster heir, with chauffeurs picking me up, imported snacks in my backpack.

We shouldn't have had any connection.

In sophomore year, Adrian's mother fell critically ill and needed a large sum for surgery.

He worked at a coffee shop near school until the early morning hours every day.

I learned about this when I passed the coffee shop after school one day and saw him.

His first reaction upon seeing me was to turn his head away.

I said nothing. The next day I slipped a check for fifty thousand dollars-my saved allowance-into his desk drawer.

He chased after me, cornering me in the hallway.

"Autumn, what's the meaning of this?"

"No meaning." I said. "It's a loan. Just pay it back later."

He stared at me for a long time, his eyes reddening.

Later he got into Harvard Law School and after graduating joined New York's top firm.

His mother's surgery was successful. She's still alive.

The fifty thousand dollars. He paid it back his first year after graduation, with interest.

I refused the interest, so he said. "If you ever need help with anything, just ask."

Over a decade passed. We'd never been in contact.

But now, I needed a lawyer.

Adrian Cooper's law office was in Manhattan's most expensive office tower. When I brought Maya upstairs, the receptionist warmly greeted us.

"Are you Autumn? Adrian is waiting for you."

The office was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city skyline.

Adrian stood by the window. Hearing us, he turned around.

He was much taller than in high school, wearing a charcoal suit and gold-rimmed glasses, exuding an air of steady composure.

But when he saw me, he smiled, the curve of his mouth exactly the same as a dozen years ago.

"Autumn." He walked over. "Long time no see."

"Long time no see."

He looked down at Maya and crouched. "Little one, what's your name?"

Maya hid behind me, peeking out. "Maya."

"Maya, that's a beautiful name." He took a candy from the desk. "Want some candy?"

Maya looked at me. I nodded.

She accepted it, saying softly. "Thank you."

Adrian arranged for an intern to take Maya to the lounge, then invited me to sit and personally poured water.

"So, what's the matter?"

I placed the divorce agreement and the photo Sylvia sent in front of him.

He read carefully, his brow gradually furrowing.

"This Sylvia Sterling. Who is she?"

"Ethan's childhood sweetheart." I said. "They grew up together. Later Sylvia married someone else and went abroad. Five years ago she came back with her child, saying she'd divorced."

"When did you find out?"

"Six months ago."

Adrian took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Autumn," he looked up at me, "do you want to leave, or do you want to fight?"

"Both."

I said, "But most importantly, Maya. I absolutely cannot let Ethan get custody of her."

"Reason?"

I explained about Ethan's medical tests on Maya these past two weeks.

Adrian's frown deepened.

"Do you have evidence? Proof that he wants Maya to donate bone marrow to that child?"

"No." I said. "But he has the motive."

"Motive isn't evidence." Adrian leaned back. "And legally speaking, bone marrow donation requires guardian consent. You're the child's mother. As long as you don't agree, he can't make that decision."

"What if he gets custody?"

Adrian fell silent.

"He'll find a way." I said. "Sylvia's child can't wait much longer."

"Did Ethan love me? Perhaps, once."

"But he loves Sylvia more."

"For Sylvia, he's capable of anything."

Adrian looked at me, something in his gaze I couldn't read.

"Autumn," he asked, "do you love him?"

I froze.

Love him?

I did once.

Loved him for eight years.

From twenty to twenty-eight, a woman's best eight years.

I accompanied him from having nothing to a net worth of hundreds of millions, through the hardest startup period, entertaining clients until I developed a stomach ulcer, living in cramped basement apartments and then penthouse suites, giving birth to his daughter.

I once thought that was love.

I once thought we'd be together forever.

But that night, when Manhattan's tallest building lit up with displays celebrating his company going public, when the entire city celebrated his success, he was in a hospital VIP ward keeping his childhood sweetheart company.

Standing on the ruins of my family name.

He wore the suit I'd ironed, leaning on a couch beside her, asleep.

She photographed it, posted it online with the caption: "The one who shelters me has always been you."

In that moment I understood.

The Ethan I loved never existed.

What I loved was someone I'd imagined.

What I loved was a dream I'd woven through eight years of youth.

"I don't love him anymore." I said. "Haven't for a long time."