Page 266 of The Heart You Kept

“Morning,” they reply as they climb out of the car.

“I wanted to talk to you,” I say. “It’s come to my attention that Pascal Deschanel is still hanging around.”

They listen intently.

“I don’t want him anywhere near Alora at any time at all, and when she arrives here at her house I want you to go inside and check it before she enters, please.”

“Yes, sir.” Philippe glances into the house. “Has something happened that we are unaware of?”

“No. But last time I was here I got the feeling that something was off…. I can’t quite put my finger on it but for some reason my senses are heightened around Alora’s safety right now.”

“Okay.” Philippe listens. “I’m sure it’s just that there’s a lot going on with her moving house and whatnot. I can assure you she’s completely safe, we won’t take our eyes off her.”

“Thank you.”

“I take it she’s still wearing her bracelet?” he asks.

“Yes, but….” I put my finger to my lips. “If she knows there’s a tracking device in it she won’t wear it. I don’t want to frighten her.”

“Of course, sir.”

I think for a moment. “You know what?” I look in at the house. “Fuck it, I’m not taking any risks, put a trace on Pascal Deschanel. I want two men on him.”

“Yes.” He takes out his phone. “How do I spell his name?” I spell it out and he sends it off to his sources. “As soon as we have an address I’ll send a crew over.”

“Just watch him,” I reply. “Stay at a distance and unnoticed if possible, but we need to know his whereabouts at all times.”

“Agree, better to be safe than sorry.”

“We’re just packing up a few more of Alora’s personal things and then we’ll be returning to Monaco later this afternoon,” I tell them.

“Okay.”

I head inside and walk through to the back of the house; the French doors are open and Alora is out in the sunshine, watering her beloved garden. She’s hosing and walking around pulling out weeds, and I smile as I watch her in her happy place.

I flick the coffee machine on and turn to notice a book on the floor. I walk over and pick it up. “Why the fuck is this book constantly falling off the shelves?” I set it on the kitchen counter. “Keep falling on the floor and I’m throwing you in the trash, fucker.” I make us both a cup of coffee and walk out and pass her one.

“Thank you.” She takes it from me.

“Did your carrots grow in the rain?” I blow into my coffee cup as I look over the garden.

“They did.”

“And what about your chili?”

She smirks, knowing I’m making fun of her. “Still hot.” She flicks the hose up at me. “Go and lie on the deck chair before I hose you down.”

“You’ll be the only one getting hosed down around here, Miss Sorenson.” I grab my crotch and she smiles and flicks the water up at me again.

I take her advice and lie down on the deck chair. Alora potters and waters and weeds, she snips and rakes the leaves.

I lie in the warm glow; the afternoon sun moves across the sky as the hours tick by. It’s funny how life throws curveballs, if someone told me a year ago that watching my love enjoy being in nature would become my favorite pastime, I would never have believed it. Yet here I am, doing something that brings me a great deal of happiness. Who knew such a perfect simplicity existed?

When we’re here doing this, nobody else exists, the world is calm and centered.

Peaceful.

I take out my phone and scroll through my Realtor contacts. I need to find us a new house…one with good soil.