Stuck in Paradise with You

Prologue

PROLOGUE

SEPTEMBER 2017

Carrie,

If you’ve got this far, you’re reading my letter. Thank you for not returning straight to sender, and please don’t throw this in the trash before you’ve heard me out.

You’ve blocked my emails, you’ve disappeared from social media and won’t reply to my messages. My calls ring out. So this is my last resort: an old-fashioned, written letter. The final one.

I’m back in New York. The baby isn’t mine.

When the firm found out about you and me, the partners all but gave me an ultimatum: either I went, or they plateaued you. So I resigned.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do. There you were. Beautiful, arresting, smart and funny. The woman I’d become undeniably besotted with. But Anya was pregnant, I thought with my child. I had to try to do the right thing by her and the baby.

I moved to Chicago to be with them. You might remember me telling you that Anya had gone back home to Seattle after we separated. It was strained and awkward. We fought and griped at each other continually, as if all the reasons we split in the first place were heightened by the pregnancy.

Anya had the baby two weeks ago. He’s cute and fragile, but he isn’t mine. It transpires she’d been seeing someone before we separated, and it turns out they were still at it behind my back the entire time I was in Chicago.

It’s a kick in the gut, I won’t lie, but I can honestly tell you it doesn’t hurt as much as the thought of you never speaking to me again.

If you don’t reply, I promise I won’t try again; I’ll leave you to move on with your life. But please know that I can’t. I don’t think I ever will, because I’ll never find someone who has the effect on me that you do.

We can be together now, Carrie; there’s nothing left to stand in our way.

I love you.

Luke