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Gwen had fallen in love with an Australian and moved there a year before I got married. Six years ago.
“Where's Noah?”
Noah was her three-year-old son.
“With his father and the nanny. I couldn't bring him along.”
That meant she wouldn't be in America for long. I eyed her again. Her hair seemed to have grown longer. She still looked young, but an aura around her screamed mature and powerful.
I hadn't seen her in three years. Since she left New York, she’d only visited once— when the incident with Sophie happened.
After that, our only form of communication was by phone. Despite being the managing director of her husband’s prestigious investment firm, she often called — to check up on Sophie and me. I wondered why she didn’t call now.
“Why are you in New York?”
“Because I can be here?”
When I frowned, she raised her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I'm here because of my interest.”
“Children’s mental health advocacy?”
She smiled. “What else?”
Her smile was warm, and it touched something in my chest. She’d picked up that interest after Sophie’s incident. She was determined to help children all over the world.
“It's a gala, and I've been planning this since forever.” She gestured dramatically. “After a successful one in Australia, I decided to organize one here. I’ve identified a strong interest and support for the cause in New York. So, I want to tap into that and expand the reach of my cause.”
I nodded. Charity.
“It's going to be a fundraising event. Trust me, we’ve gathered funds from…” She paused when I arched a brow. We?
She seemed to understand. “Duh. It's been two years. Don't tell me you think I don't have sponsors and I'm the only one in this.”
“… like I was saying.” She adjusted herself and clasped her palms before her.
From the glint in her eyes, I could tell she was happier. She’d been unsure of her step when she traveled. But I’d supported her and her husband financially. Just like how I did to the rest of my family.
She seemed content with her life. Husband, kids, interest, and job.
“We’ve gathered funds from sponsors, my connections, and other sources. This fundraising event is the final step.”
There was a hint of pride in her eyes. I was proud of her, too.
“Okay.”
She didn't need to. But her dramatic self twisted her neck at an odd angle to glare at me. “Okay?”
I tightened my jaw in confusion.
“I said all these things, and the only thing you have to say is okay?”
Straightening her neck, she leaned against the chair. Then folded her arms below her chest. “You really haven't changed much. You didn't even grow a beard.”
I grunted. “There's something called shaving, Gwendolyn. Isn't that available in Australia?”
She puckered her lips before narrowing her eyes. “I repeat, your humor has improved. Who’s teaching you? Is it the woman—”
“Shouldn't you be at your hotel?” I quickly interrupted.
