In the heart of New York City, Jacob Daniel leads a seemingly normal life, running a café near Central Park with his closest friends, Sam and Katie. But when Katie's boss is found murdered and the FBI pulls her into a high-stakes investigation, the...
Jake stood under the shower, letting the warm water crash down around him like waves in a storm. He sank slowly onto the cold tiles, knees pulled to his chest, as the memory of Nathan’s voice pierced through him. His head throbbed, his stomach churned with the bitter aftertaste of betrayal. The image of Anna, now tainted, twisted, haunted his thoughts.
He ran his hands over his face, his breath shaky. The weight of everything was beginning to crush him. For the first time, doubt crept into his mind—was he even capable of untangling the mess that had become his life? Could he really connect the dots, or had the trail gone too cold, too convoluted to follow?
Each time the thought of Anna’s secret crossed his mind, it was like a punch to the gut, sharp and unrelenting. He loved her with everything he had. Had that love been a lie? The water did little to soothe the ache inside. After a while, he turned off the shower and staggered out, throwing on clothes without much thought. His movements were mechanical, like someone on autopilot. He was beyond exhausted, but he couldn’t tell whether it was his body or mind that was more tired.
Falling onto his bed, sleep came quickly, but it wasn’t peaceful. Jake tossed and turned, the sheets tangling around his legs, trapping him in restless slumber. He was jolted awake by the shrill sound of his phone. Disoriented, Jake fumbled for it, squinting at the clock: 2 A.M. The number on the screen was one he recognized instantly—Alexandra.
“Alexandra?” he answered, voice hoarse with sleep.
“Jacob, mon amour,” came the familiar voice, soft but with an edge. “I’m back in New York. Where are you?”
“I’m at my place,” Jake replied, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Come over.”
“I’m in a cab,” she said. “I’ll be there soon.”
The line clicked off before he could reply. Jake swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly, his muscles aching from tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He moved like a ghost through his apartment, pouring himself a glass of scotch, hoping it would quiet the relentless thoughts in his head. Leaning against the counter, he stared into the dark liquid, watching the way it reflected the dim light of the kitchen. But no amount of alcohol could dull the jagged edges of his memories.
By the time Alexandra arrived, Jake hadn’t moved from his spot by the counter. The moment she stepped through the door, she could tell something was wrong. She didn’t say a word, just placed her bags in guest room and went to refresh herself. When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Jake standing on the balcony, the night breeze ruffling his hair, the glass of scotch still clutched tightly in his hand.
“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, Jacob?” she asked softly, stepping onto the balcony and standing beside him. There was a heavy concern in her voice, a tone Jake wasn’t used to hearing from her. She took the glass from his hand and took a sip, her eyes searching his face for answers.
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