Love in Slow Motion

55. Quinn

55 QUINN

“Give me one second,” I say to the figure that has just stepped up to my desk. I know I’m always supposed to stop what I’m doing and greet in-person clients first, but if I don’t finish inputting this appointment for my boss, I absolutely will forget and it’ll never get done.

“No rush.”

My fingers stop on the keyboard. I know that voice. I know that voice the way you know the voice of a family member, the way you can recognize someone’s voice over the phone when they call you from a different number and immediately jump into conversation.

I look up to see Madison Lynch on the other side of the reception desk. In the afternoon light streaming in through the windows behind her, she looks like she’s glowing, like some kind of guardian angel who landed on my doorstep.

I haven’t seen her in six months.

I haven’t seen or spoken to any of the Lynches for six months.

I’ve avoided their names on social media and asked Brooke not to tell me what’s going on with them because the pain of losing the only real family I’ve ever had has been too much. It was a shock to hear about Chase’s sexual harassment suit after the fact. It was the last thing that came across my desk about any of the Lynches before I stopped looking into them.

But now Madison is standing in front of me, and it’s clear from the pleased smirk on her face that this is no accidental run-in. She came here to find me.

“Please, finish what you were doing,” she says, nodding toward the computer in front of me.

My eyes flash back to the screen. I really do need to input the appointment, so I finish filling in the necessary information, all the while feeling the heat of Madison’s gaze on me. When I’m finished, I lay my hands flat on the desk and look up at her, unsure what to say.

She smiles. “Do you have a break coming up by any chance?”

Once I’ve got my phone set to go straight to voicemail, I meet Madison outside. In the direct sunlight, she’s even more beautiful, her silvering blonde hair pulled up into a lose updo and the ruffles on the collar of her perfect white blouse grazing the bottom of her chin.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, because even though not a single day goes by that I don’t think about Reed and Madison and Sabrina, I thought it was over. I thought they had washed their hands of me.

She sighs, her eyes still bright. “I came to check up on you. To see how you’re doing.” Her eyes flit over my head, to the sign on the window that announces the marketing firm where I’ve been working since shortly after I came back from New Hampshire. “Are you happy here?”

I shrug. “I don’t hate it. It’s a paycheck. And it’s something to tide me over until I figure out what I want to do.”

She nods. “I heard through the grapevine that you sold the house, and I can’t say I blame you, not after all that Chase did.” She digs in her purse for something. “Well, if you want to stay and work here, that’s lovely. But if you don’t, this should help.” She holds an envelope out to me, and I just stare at it. We’re tucked into a corner of the stone courtyard that hides the side door of our offices from the main road. And while I feel pretty confident that no one can see us past the enormous stone sculpture beside us, I flush at the idea that someone might see Madison and me talking. No one here really knows me. Would they start to ask questions? Would they figure out how I’m connected to the Lynch family?

“What is this?” I ask absently as I peer into the envelope. It’s a check. And as soon as I realize that, my skin goes hot, even with the cold January wind whipping through the courtyard.

“Your money for coming out to the lake house last summer.”

And then I see the amount the check is for. I choke on my own spit, coughing as I say, “This is far too much. I don’t deserve any of it, much less…” I lower my voice. “Much less two million.”

Madison shrugs. “It’s your money, plus everyone else’s.”

I try to process that, but I can’t. I shake my head. “No. I don’t mind taking Chase’s share, but Reed and Sabrina deserve theirs.”

“Sabrina doesn’t need hers. She’s done well for herself without it. And Reed wanted you to have his.” She takes a deep breath, and something about her seems to soften. It’s like she shifts from the fierce Madison Lynch that we all know to someone else, just for a second. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to get this to you. I knew you had moved out of the city to a smaller place and gotten a job, so I figured I had some time to put some things together. I had Chase to deal with, and my health, of course. I’m in remission.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief. One of the many reasons I stopped keeping up with news on the Lynches was my own fear that I would someday hear of Madison’s passing. But here she is, healthy and strong and very much alive. “Madison, that’s wonderful.”

“I’m assuming you’ve heard about Chase.”

My happiness immediately fades. “Just what was on social media.”

“I’ve made sure that he’s not homeless and that he’s fed. But beyond that, I’ve unfortunately had to cut ties with him. I love my son very much, but he’s chosen a path that I’m not currently able to follow him down.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s strange the way that someone can go from being the most important person in your life to being someone you don’t even recognize anymore in the span of less than a year.

Madison nods, knowingly. “I know what everyone thought about this summer, but I didn’t bring you all to the lake house as some one-last-time goodbye trip. I brought you all out there as a new beginning. I thought I would give us a fresh start. Spend some time together and repair what seemed to have somehow broken over the years. But I didn’t know all the facts, and I couldn’t put us back together in the end.”

“Madison, I’m so sorry.” I choke the words out, clutching the envelope to my chest. “You have no idea how sorry I am.”

She scowls, her hair fluttering in the cold wind. She doesn’t seem to notice. “For what? For being a good wife to my son, even when he treated you like a commodity? Or for making Reed happier than I’ve ever seen him?”

Hearing his name come out of her mouth like that makes my throat go tight. “Madison?—”

She cuts me off. “I learned this summer that my children are not who I thought they were.” She’s looking me in the eye now, forcing me to look back. And her eyes are soft and full of wetness. “That I don’t know them the way I thought I did. But one thing I do know is that Reed is sick with love for you. Chase has always been everyone’s favorite, always gotten exactly what he wanted, but I never saw Reed show a lick of jealousy until the day Chase brought you home. He was different that day. Quieter. I saw it but I didn’t understand until now. And he seemed to slowly disappear until this summer. And then he was in full color again.”

The tears go cold on my cheeks before I’ve even had a chance to acknowledge that they’re there.

“And I believe that you love him, too. You do, don’t you?”

No holding back. “Yes. But we can’t?—”

She steps toward me, pulling her coat tighter around her thin shoulders. “If they weren’t brothers, if the family wasn’t involved in any way, would you choose to be with Reed?”

I finally say what I’ve wanted to say for so long: the truth. “I would have chosen him five years ago.” If I had just stayed still that night, waited for him to come back and explain himself to me, it would have been us this whole time. And if they hadn’t been brothers and we had found each other again after I started seeing Chase, I would have just broken it off with Chase. But that wasn’t an option. The whole world would look different now if they weren’t family.

Madison nods. “Then run. Because what’s left of this family wants you in it and wants you and Reed to be truly happy. For the past six months, my son has been walking around half-alive, and I can’t bear it anymore.”

She’s handing me something else now, and I know from the size and shape of it what it is before it’s in my hands. A business card for a place named Q . I stare at that one letter, my stomach doing flips. “He opened his restaurant?”

“He did. I hope to see you again soon, Quinn. None of the other stuff matters. What matters is that, as far as I’m concerned, you’re still my daughter, and you’re still part of this family.”

A sob escapes me then, and Madison steps forward to rub the tears from my cheeks. “I don’t know if you know this,” I tell her while she’s preoccupied with wiping away the mascara, “but you’re my hero. All I’ve ever wanted was to be like you.”

She steps back, sniffs and lifts her chin. “Then go after what you want, and don’t let anyone stop you.”