Exiled: A Madame X Novel: A Sin Series Prequel Trilogy by Jasinda Wilder

Author:Jasinda Wilder [Wilder, Jasinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jasinda Wilder
Published: 2024-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Ten

We spend a week in Barcelona. We swim, we make love, we sleep tangled around each other. We live free, soaking up the sun, bathing in love.

It is the happiest I have ever been.

The happiest I will ever be, I think.

Chapter

Eleven

Ihave almost managed to forget about you.

Almost.

We have moved, Logan and I. He sold his row house, and we spent a month hunting for something that suited us. We looked at other row houses, other brownstones. We looked at condos, ground-floor apartments, penthouses. I expected us to choose something like Logan had, something quiet and private with a backyard. Instead, however, we chose the penthouse of a condo building in the heart of Greenwich Village. The entire upper floor, with a private rooftop terrace. It is nothing like the echoing monstrosity of your home, a fact that I love, smaller and cozier than that, yet larger than Logan’s previous place. A beautiful kitchen flowing into an informal dining area, a breakfast nook tucked into a corner. The living room is sunken a few steps down from the kitchen and bedrooms, which strikes me as odd, but I find I like it, for reasons I can’t quite enumerate. There are four bedrooms; one for Logan and me, one as his home office, one to be a nursery—that still makes my hands shake and my stomach flip, because it isn’t real yet, and is still terrifying—and one for Cocoa. The master bedroom has an en suite bathroom, and there is one more shared between the other three bedrooms. The master bedroom is isolated, set above the rest of the unit so it overlooks the rooftop terrace. The front of the room is a wall of movable, adjustable-tint glass, which leads to a balcony that in turn descends via twin curving staircases to the terrace.

Cocoa loves the terrace almost as much as I do. As soon as we let her out, she runs laps around the perimeter for a few minutes, barking like a fiend, and then puts her front paws up on the ledge of the waist-high wall and stares down at the street, tongue lolling, eyes excitedly scanning the sidewalk below, tail swinging a mile a minute, and that’s where she’ll stay, just like that, until you make her come in.

Logan sells his old place with all the furniture included, both to fetch a higher price and because he wants us to choose everything for our new home together, from silverware to bedsheets. The only things we bring with us are our clothes and the contents of his office; everything else stays. And we spend days, weeks even, picking out curtains and couches, silverware and wineglasses, bedsheets and cooking utensils and everything in between.

I never realized how much stuff it took to make a house a home.

And I savor every moment of it, every decision, down to the smallest, most arbitrary thing. It is normalcy, and it is glorious.

I have decided to put on hold the preparations for Comportment. Even if

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