All Chapters of Rediscovering Odette : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Ten Years Ago “Ughhh,” I groaned as the annoying sound of my alarm jolted me from my beauty sleep. I couldn’t believe it was Monday again. Personally, I loathed Mondays; they marked the end of a lovely weekend and the start of yet another boring, monotonous cycle that was, sadly, my life. You see, my parents—or more precisely, my papa—held a firm belief that the best way to keep my mamma’s memory alive was by immersing me in everything she had loved. Unfortunately, that meant I had a packed schedule every day of the week: school from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., then ballet classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. On days without ballet, my schedule was littered with piano lessons and whatever else my dear father deemed appropriate for a young lady my age. Groaning, I got out of bed and headed to the shower. After a long, hot shower that did nothing to wake me up, I knew I needed at least a cup of Earl Grey to truly kickstart my brain. I turned to the mirror. “T

Ten Years Later “Amerie! Amerie! We’re going to be late if we don’t leave now!” I called out to my flatmate, hoping she was ready. I loved her to death, but she always got on my nerves in the morning—especially since she was my ride to work. Despite living in New York for three years, I still couldn’t comfortably drive on these streets. It’s as if the road laws here are more of a suggestion than an actual rule. “We’ll be thirty minutes early if we leave now, you British wanker,” she called back. I rolled my eyes at her response—a very typical Amerie comeback if there ever was one. I liked to be at least an hour early to work so I could grab breakfast there, and Amerie knew this, but she enjoyed flirting along the lines of late and just on time. Amerie and I had met when I moved here from London. After my dad died, I couldn’t stay in England anymore; the thought of it filled me with sadness. So when my Cambridge professor offered to recommend me to a friend who owned an interior des

Anton’s POV“Don’t remember me,” I say, turning to walk away.“Swan, wait! Let me explain,” he says, reaching for my hands.I snatch them away, just like he did to me 10 years ago. “I forgot who you are, Anton. I’d expect you to do the same for me. I am not Swan, nor am I Odette. I am Miss Falcone—a simple employee of yours, unfortunately.”She’s grown bolder—that’s all I could think as I watched her walk away from me. I knew showing up here in the continental U.S., at her workplace, was a mistake. But I just had to see her. Enough time has passed, and I miss her.I have to admit, I was a little presumptuous to expect her to welcome my presence. But what do I know? I’m clueless when it comes to women, and it seems I’m even more clueless when it comes to her.“Sir, we need to head out. We have a meeting at the new club in 30 minutes,” my assistant, Brenda, says, appearing out of nowhere.“Tell Charles to meet us out front,” I say dismissively.But something must be bothering her becaus

The days that followed were agonizingly slow for Odette. Anton hadn’t reached out again since the night he showed up at her apartment, but his presence lingered in her life like a ghost. He was everywhere: in the boardroom meetings, in passing conversations with colleagues, and in her restless dreams.Amerie had picked up on her change in demeanor and, true to form, refused to let it slide.“You’ve been quiet all week, Dotty,” Amerie said as they sat on the couch, a tub of ice cream between them.“I’m just tired,” Odette replied, stabbing at the ice cream with her spoon.“Bull,” Amerie shot back. “This is about him, isn’t it?”Odette didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. Amerie sighed and placed the tub on the coffee table.“You can’t avoid this forever,” Amerie said gently. “If you don’t want to forgive him, that’s fine. But you need to figure out what you want, Odette. For your sake, not his.”Odette sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t even know where to start.”“You star

Odette spent the weekend wrapped in a cocoon of indecision. Anton’s words replayed in her mind on a loop: “I’ve never stopped loving you.” It was as though he’d carved them into her thoughts, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t erase them.Amerie noticed her friend’s distracted state but didn’t push. Instead, she hovered in the background, offering quiet support in the form of tea refills, takeout, and reruns of Odette’s favorite interior design shows.By Sunday evening, Odette couldn’t take the internal back-and-forth any longer. She grabbed her sketchpad and headed to the small park near their apartment. The crisp January air stung her cheeks as she settled onto a bench, her fingers trembling as she began to sketch.Drawing had always been her escape, her way of channeling emotions she couldn’t articulate. She lost herself in the flow of lines and curves, the soft scratch of pencil on paper grounding her. It wasn’t until she felt a shadow fall over her that she realized s