Wram 368

Chapter 368 

Alexander 

Madison tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, laughing at something the man said. She looked radiant. Happy. 

Free. 

Then her eyes met mine. 

The laughter died on her lips. She froze, one hand still hovering near her hair, the other clutching her purse. Even from this distance, I could see the color drain from her face. 

Five years melted away in that single moment. 

Madison said something to the man, her eyes never leaving mine. He glanced in my direction, frowned slightly, then nodded and headed into the café. 

We stood there, twenty feet apart, staring at each other like gunslingers at high noon. Cars passed. People walked by. The world continued turning while we remained locked in our private standoff. 

She blinked first, breaking the spell. Without a word, she turned toward the café door. 

“Madison,” I called, closing the distance between us in a few quick strides. 

She paused, hand on the door, jaw tight. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath before she turned to face 

1. me. 

“Mr. Knight,” she said, the formality like a slap. “What a surprise.” 

“I was in the area,” I lied. Badly. 

One eyebrow lifted slightly. “In Connecticut? On a Wednesday afternoon? How coincidental.” 

The Madison Harper I remembered would have stammered, blushed. This woman was cool, collected. Remote. 

“It’s been a while,” I said, grasping for normalcy. 

“Five years,” she replied evenly. 

“How are you?” I asked, searching her face for any hint of the warmth we once shared. 

Her eyes hardened for a split second before she masked it with polite indifference. “I’m good. Very good, actually.” 

She didn’t ask how I was. The omission spoke volumes. 

“Your café looks nice,” I tried again. 

“Thank you.” She glanced at the door, clearly itching to escape. “I should get back. I have work to do.” 

“Madison, wait-” 

But she was already pushing through the door, the cheerful bell announcing her retreat. 

1/5 

I stood there, feeling like an idiot. What had I expected? That she’d throw herself into my arms? That she’d be pining for me after all these years? 

I turned back toward my car, hands in my pockets, pride smarting. The man from the SUV was watching me through the café window, his expression curious. Who was he? Boyfriend? Husband? 

The thought made my stomach churn. 

I reached for my car door, then stopped. No. I didn’t drive two hours to have a ten–second conversation. 

Back inside the café, I spotted Madison behind the counter. The man stood nearby, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as they spoke in hushed tones. 

I approached the counter. “Could I get another coffee? This one’s gotten cold.” 

Madison’s eyes flashed to mine. “Ellie can help you,” she said, nodding to the young barista who’d served me earlier. 

“Actually, I’d prefer if you made it,” I countered, holding her gaze. 

“We’re pretty busy,” she replied, gesturing to the half–empty café. 

“Madison,” I said, dropping my voice, “five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.” 

Something flickered across her face: annoyance, curiosity, maybe both. “Fine. What would you like?” 

“Whatever you’d recommend.” 

A corner of her mouth quirked up. “Dangerous request. I could give you our sweetest, most elaborate concoction. 

11 

“I trust your judgment,” I replied. “You always knew what I needed before I did.” 

The almost–smile vanished, replaced by that cool mask. “One Harper’s Special coming up. 

I watched as she moved efficiently behind the counter, her hands familiar yet strange. So many times I’d watched those same hands sort through documents, straighten my tie, press against my chest as we- 

“Here,” she said, placing a mug on the counter. “That’ll be $4.50.” 

I handed her a ten. “Keep the change.” 

“We have a tip jar,” she replied, making exact change before pushing it across to me. 

I dropped the money into the jar. “Who’s your friend?” 

“What?” 

“The guy you came in with.” 

Madison’s eyes narrowed. “That’s really none of your business, Mr. Knight.” 

“Just curious.” 

2/5 

“Are you?” She tilted her head. “Why?” 

“Professional interest. Former employee. Standard HR follow–up.” 

“That’s the best you could come up with? An HR follow–up five years later?” 

I shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. It was excellent, rich and complex with hints of chocolate and something else I couldn’t identify. 

“What is this?” I asked, genuinely surprised by how good it tasted. 

“Our house blend with a touch of cinnamon and vanilla. We roast the beans ourselves.” 

“It’s amazing.” 

“Thank you.” 

An awkward silence fell between us. In the past, silence between us had been comfortable, easy. Now it stretched tight with unspoken words. 

“Madison-” 

“Mr. Knight-” 

We both started at the same time, then stopped. 

“You first,” I said. 

She shook her head. “I really should get back to work.” 

“I’m not leaving until we talk.” I settled into a chair at the counter. “I’ll sit here all day if I have to.” 

“That would be terrible for business,” she replied dryly. “Nothing scares away customers like a brooding man in a three–thousand–dollar suit.” 

“Four thousand,” I corrected automatically. 

“Still as modest as ever, I see.” 

“And you’re still deflecting,” I countered. “Some things never change.” 

11 

She sighed, checking her watch. “I have a ten–minute break in half an hour. Meet me out back.” 

“I’ll be there.” 

I carried my coffee to a corner table, positioning myself so I could see both Madison and the mystery man. He had moved to a table near the window, working on a laptop. Every few minutes, he’d glance up at Madison, sometimes catching her eye with a smile. 

Boyfriend? Husband? The questions gnawed at me. 

Thirty minutes crawled by. I watched Madison interact with customers, her natural warmth returning when she wasn’t dealing with me. She remembered names, asked about children, and recommended pastries with 

3/5 

genuine enthusiasm. 

This was a different Madison from the one I’d known in New York. More confident. More at ease. She moved like she owned the place, which, of course, she did. 

Finally, she untied her apron and disappeared through a door behind the counter. Following her lead, I drained my coffee and headed toward the back of the café. 

A small garden area greeted me outside. Wooden tables nestled among flowering plants, unoccupied in the late afternoon lull. Madison sat at the farthest table, eyes closed, face tilted toward the sun. 

For a moment, I just looked at her. The curve of her neck. The way the sunlight caught in her hair. The small furrow between her brows that appeared even in repose. 

God, I had missed her. 

The thought hit me with unexpected force. I had spent years convincing myself she was just another employee who’d moved on. Just a woman I’d slept with as part of a business arrangement. Nothing special. 

I was a world–class liar, especially to myself. 

“Are you going to stand there staring, or are you going to sit down?” Madison asked without opening her eyes. 

I sat. “How did you know I was here?” 

“Your cologne. Still the same after all these years.‘ 

“And you still remember how it smells.” 

Her eyes opened at that, fixing me with a sharp look. “What do you want, Mr. Knight?” 

“I was in town. Heard you had a café. Thought I’d check it out.” 

“Try again,” she said, not buying it for a second. “You don’t just happen to be in small–town Connecticut on a weekday afternoon.” 

“Fine. Anthony mentioned he saw you here.” 

“And you drove all the way from New York just to what? Say hello? Check if I’m still alive? Make sure I haven’t told anyone about our arrangement?” 

I leaned forward. “Why did you leave?” 1 

Madison’s expression hardened. “You know why.” 

“No, I don’t. You disappeared. One minute you were there, the next you were gone. No explanation. No conversation. Just… gone.” 

She stared at me, incredulous. “Are you serious right now?” 

“Perfectly.”