22 Three weeks after Autumn's disappearance, Lucas found himself standing outside Westlake Prep, his alma mater. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd come-some half-formed notion about reconnecting with the past, perhaps, or seeking insights into the beginning of his complicated relationship with Autumn. The campus looked much the same as it had a decade ago-pristine lawns, ivy-covered brick buildings, students in crisp uniforms hurrying between classes. Lucas had arranged his visit with the headmaster, who was only too happy to welcome back one of the school's most successful alumni. "Mr. Bailey," the current headmaster, Dr. Marshall, greeted him at the front entrance. "What a pleasure to have you visit. We're very proud of what you've accomplished since your time here." Lucas shook his hand. "Thank you for accommodating me on such short notice." "Of course, of course. I understand you're interested in seeing some of the old classrooms? Perhaps the laboratory where you and Ms. Shepherd won that prestigious mathematics competition?" Lucas nodded, surprised the headmaster knew about that. "You remember that?" Dr. Marshall smiled. "It's still talked about. Your victory over Princeton Academy broke their three-year winning streak. The trophy is in our display case." He led Lucas through familiar hallways, passing classrooms where teenage versions of themselves had once sat, learning and dreaming and planning futures they couldn't possibly have foreseen. When they reached the science wing, Dr. Marshall pushed open the door to what had been AP Chemistry. "I believe this is where you and Ms. Shepherd were lab partners?" Lucas stepped inside, memories washing over him. He could almost see Autumn as she had been then- serious, focused, her long dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail as she measured chemicals with meticulous precision. He'd admired her thoroughness, even as he sometimes grew impatient with it. "Yes," he said quietly. "This is it." 'I'll leave you to look around," Dr. Marshall offered tactfully. "Take as much time as you need." Alone in the classroom, Lucas moved to the lab station where he and Autumn had worked together. Had it started even then? This connection between them that he'd been too blind to recognize? He recalled her quiet competence, the way she never seemed intimidated by him as so many others were. The way she'd stand her ground when she thought he was wrong, presenting logical arguments rather than deferring to his reputation. He'd respected her for that, he realized now. Had valued her as a partner because she challenged him, made him better. After exploring the classroom, Lucas made his way to the trophy case in the main hallway. There it was-the mathematics competition trophy, with a small plaque listing the winning team: "Lucas Bailey and Autumn Shepherd, Class of 2012." Beside it was a framed photograph he hadn't expected to see-himself and Autumn holding the trophy, both smiling. His arm was around her shoulders in a casual, celebratory embrace. Looking at it now, Lucas could see what he'd missed then-the way Autumn leaned into him slightly, the soft admiration in her eyes as she looked up at him. Had she already loved him then? The thought made his chest ache with regret for his obliviousness. On impulse, Lucas took a photo of the display with his phone, then continued his self-guided tour. His feet led him to the library, where he and Autumn had spent countless hours studying for the competition. To the auditorium, where they'd hosted the Winter Formal together. To the basketball court, where... He paused, a memory surfacing that he'd nearly forgotten. His senior year, he'd sprained his ankle badly during a critical game. The injury had sidelined him for weeks, forcing him to miss the regional championships that scouts from top universities would be attending. He'd been devastated, angry at his body's betrayal, concerned about how it might affect his college prospects. And through it all, Autumn had been there. Not hovering or pitying, but quietly supportive, bringing him the assignments he missed, helping him keep up with their shared classes. Lucas walked slowly across the empty court, remembering those afternoons in his bedroom at the Bailey Estate. Autumn sitting cross-legged on the floor, explaining calculus concepts he'd missed in class. Her patience when his frustration made him short-tempered. The small treats she'd sometimes bring-cookies or brownies she'd baked herself. 'She cared for me," he murmured aloud, the realization striking him with full force. "All that time, and I never 'eally saw it." There was something else, too-a memory so faded he almost couldn't grasp it. Something Autumn had given him... Lucas left the gymnasium and headed toward the administrative offices. The school's current librarian, Mrs. Chen, had been there since before his time and might remember details he'd forgotten. 'Mr. Bailey," she greeted him warmly when he found her in the library. "What a wonderful surprise. It's been years." "Mrs. Chen," he smiled. "You haven't changed a bit." She laughed. "Flattery will get you everywhere. What brings you back to Westlake after all this time?" Lucas hesitated, then decided on honesty. "I'm trying to remember something about Autumn Shepherd. We were classmates, and I believe she gave me a gift when I was injured my senior year. I'm afraid I can't quite recall what it was." 13 Chapter 22 gn School Menades ( Mrs. Chen's eyes lit with recognition. "Autumn Shepherd! Such a lovely, quiet girl. The two of you were quite the academic powerhouse together." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "A gift when you were injured... Oh! I believe I might know what you're referring to." She led him to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a yearbook from their graduating class. "I keep copies of all the yearbooks. Let me see..." She flipped through pages until she found what she was looking for. "There. The candid photos section." Lucas leaned over to look. The page showed a series of informal shots from their senior year. And there, in the bottom corner, was a photo of him sitting on a bench outside, his injured leg propped up, holding what appeared to be a small wrapped package while Autumn stood beside him, looking uncharacteristically nervous. I remember now," he said softly. "It was a book. A first edition of 'The Great Gatsby.' It must have cost her a ortune." Mrs. Chen nodded. "I recall she spent weeks searching for it. She knew it was your favorite novel." Lucas stared at the photo, memories rushing back. The weight of the book in his hands. The shy way Autum ad presented it to him. "It was for my eighteenth birthday," he said. "I was so preoccupied with my injury, wit missing the championship games, that I barely acknowledged it." Shame washed over him as he remembered his casual thanks, the way he'd set the book aside without really appreciating its significance. "I was an ass." Mrs. Chen gave him a knowing look. "You were eighteen and self-absorbed, like most teenagers. But you veren't unkind, Lucas. You were just... focused elsewhere." Lucas straightened, a sudden urgency gripping him. "I need to go. Thank you, Mrs. Chen. You've been ncredibly helpful." Back at the penthouse, Lucas went straight to his study. The built-in bookshelves held hundreds of volumes, arranged by subject and author. He scanned them until he found what he was looking for-a small section of irst editions he'd collected over the years. And there it was. The Great Gatsby, its original dust jacket preserved in a protective cover, the spine only slightly creased from readings over the years. He'd kept it all this time, carried it from his room at the Bailey Estate to his college dorm to his first apartment and finally to the penthouse. He'd kept Autumn's gift without even remembering who had given it to him. Lucas carefully removed the book from the shelf and opened it. On the inside cover, in neat handwriting he how recognized as Autumn's, was an inscription he'd never noticed-or perhaps had noticed once and then orgotten: To Lucas, who burns as brightly as Gatsby's green light. Happy 18th birthday. -Autumn" He traced the words with his finger, a lump forming in his throat. Even then, she had seen something in him worth believing in, worth loving. And how had he repaid that faith? By forgetting her entirely. By failing to recognize her when they met again rears later. By marrying her for convenience while loving another woman. By hurting her again and again unt she felt she had no choice but to run away. I don't deserve her," he whispered to the empty room. "I never have." But deserving or not, he missed her. With a depth and intensity that surprised even him, he missed Autumn Shepherd-her quiet competence, her dry humor, the way she'd challenge him when everyone else simply agreed. He missed their conversations over dinner, the comfortable silences they'd shared, the way she'd nade the penthouse feel like a home rather than just an expensive showcase. Had that been love, growing slowly beneath his conscious awareness? Had he been falling for Autumn even while convincing himself he still loved Phoebe? The night before their divorce rushed back to him-the vulnerability in Autumn's eyes as she'd come to him, he tenderness of their lovemaking, the way it had felt both like an ending and a beginning. He'd told her he oved her that night. In the heat of the moment, the words had simply tumbled out, surprising him as much a ner. But had they been true? Lucas returned the book to its shelf and went to his desk. He opened his laptop and began to write-not just the email he'd been sending Autumn every few days since she left, but something more substantial. A letter hat would convey everything he'd realized, everything he regretted, everything he hoped they might still become. He wrote about the mathematics competition, about how her methodical approach had balanced his mpulsive leaps. About the Winter Formal, and how her organizational skills had turned a potentially disastrous event into something memorable. About his injury, and how her steady presence had made those weeks of recovery bearable. He wrote about finding The Great Gatsby, about finally understanding the significance of her gift. About the shame he felt for forgetting her, and the gratitude he now had for the second chance their arranged marriage had provided. Most of all, he wrote about their night together-the honesty of it, the connection he'd felt, the words of love that had come from somewhere deeper than he'd recognized at the time. When he finished, it was nearly dawn. Lucas read through what he'd written, made a few edits, then saved it Chapter 22. High School Memories (1) rather than sending it immediately. This wasn't something to rush. He would refine it, make sure every word conveyed exactly what he meant, before sharing it with Autumn. For now, he had another task. He picked up his phone and dialed Victoria's number again. To his surprise, she answered this time. "Lucas. It's six in the morning." "I know what time it is," he said. "I need your help." A pause. "With what?" "I need to get a message to Autumn. I know you know where she is." Victoria sighed. "She asked for space, Lucas. If she wanted to talk to you, she'd return your calls." "Please," he said, abandoning pride in favor of honesty. "I just need to know she's okay. And I need her to know... I need her to know I'm still here. That I'll wait as long as it takes." The line was silent for so long he thought Victoria might have hung up. Finally, she spoke. "I'll give her your message. But that's all I can do. The rest is up to her." "Thank you," Lucas said, relief washing through him. "And Victoria? Tell her I understand now. About the book About everything." After hanging up, Lucas stood at his window, watching the sun rise over Northbrook. Autumn was gone, perhaps for good. But for the first time since discovering her departure, he felt a sense of peace. Not becaus he was certain of the outcome, but because he finally understood the journey that had brought them to this point. And because he knew, with absolute clarity, what he wanted their destination to be.