Next To You Read Online Free PDF Page A

for Gustave ‘Gus’ Jones had been in the paper. Surely she’d seen it—old friends they’d both known had seen it, and those old friends showed up at the funeral, but Caroline hadn’t even sent a note of condolence. Her father-in-law, a man she’d adored, had died, and she hadn’t acknowledged the fact in any way.
    Nothing had changed. Back when Drew was dying, she’d disengaged from everyone they knew. Then everything had fallen apart. Not one of their friends seemed to know where she had disappeared to in the last five months. Some said they were glad the turmoil had finally come to an end. A few of them had confided to him, with some embarrassment, they were disappointed they hadn’t been better, more reliable friends and kept tabs on her.
    Alex had simply buried it all, like they’d buried his father and Drew, and he believed he didn’t cared anymore. While she was out of sight she hadn’t been a threat to anything. He didn’t have to think about her. He could just grieve one loss without addressing something that wasn’t there.
    He sat in this diner again, eating a slice of the cherry pie his catering company had made and he’d delivered himself. He didn’t know why he was waiting for her when he’d moved on with his life, only that it was obvious he’d never moved on from Caroline. Out of sight had merely been out of mind—temporarily. He’d seen her once and remembered everything about her, about her habits, about the things she liked, about the places she went. He knew Caroline would come back to the Wellington Diner. He knew this because she loved the cinnamon twists he made. He knew this because she had a thing for little diners.
    He’d thought about that rainy morning, when he suddenly found himself face to face with her. He thought about that Saturday a lot. He licked sticky cherry pie from a fork and replayed the events of that wet day and of days before. He’d gripped the flesh of her arms, and his memory began to blur with history, with fantasy. Had he lifted her up on the enamel surface, her hungry, coffee-flavored tongue in his mouth, his hands sliding under her thighs? Had her skirt bunched up as she balanced on edge of the cool white steel and she pulled at the buttons on his pants? Or had he simply shoved her against the counter?
    During the time she had been gone, the image of her skin warm beneath his hands periodically raided his dreams. He gotten used to the occasional occupation, but seeing her again shifted something. The images he had now provoked him into thoughts he knew were irrational. He had changed again. Life had changed again. Drew’s death had changed everything before. But his dying wasn’t the hardest part to come to terms with. It was the way he died that had made life something to endure. The process had turned Caroline into a coolly detached, emotionless woman who pushed him away and shut him out. He’d been shocked, depressed, hollowed out, but he’d begun to overcome despair until he saw her again. He was different now. The thoughts that came into his mind and the images that burst into his daydreams were completely out of character and he knew it. He knew he’d become a smoldering haze of his former self.
    He stabbed another chunk of pie and lifted it to his mouth. A cherry dropped off his fork and stained his white shirt. His life had discolored the same way.
    ***
    Will took off his hat and checked his watch as he rode the Webb & Fairchild store escalator up to the second floor. He figured he had twenty minutes to pick out a new raincoat before his midafternoon meeting. Just outside Men’s Personal Shopping, Stuart, the trim sales associate from Designer Menswear greeted him as he passed by, ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Murphy.’
    ‘Hello, Stuart.’ Once inside the Personal Shopping Suite, Will found the replacement for Norelle, his old personal shopper. The new woman sat behind a small, English oak writing desk. A length of her hair, mixed hues of dark