I saw Cole for the first time.
We met in a neutral conference room with lawyers present.
I barely recognized him.
Not because he’d changed.
Because I had.
I wore a navy sweater, black trousers, and no wedding ring.
My wrist had healed.
I’d slept four consecutive hours the night before.
That alone felt remarkable.
Cole stood as I entered.
“Lauren.”
I nodded.
His eyes searched my face, perhaps for the woman who used to study his expressions before speaking.
He didn’t find her.
“You look good.”
“Thank you.”
My
