Daniel had been outside Emma's building since five that morning.

Pathetic he knew, that's what he was. Sitting in his rental car like some stalker, watching the entrance, waiting for a glimpse of the woman he'd destroyed.

A week. Seven days since she'd told him to leave. Since she'd looked at him with those eyes full of pain and rage and said she wasn't sure she could ever trust him again.

He didn't blame her, how could he? He'd made his choice and faked his death. Let her grieve him for ...