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  Adam’s anger had subsided. The colonel spoke the truth. The past couldn’t be changed. He had to look to the future. “All right,” he said. “So we go home looking like we failed at our assignment. I suppose it won’t be as bad as still being locked up.”

  “At least we can get Netflix,” Arjun said. He looked intently at Colonel Butler. “Netflix still exists, right?”

  Colonel Butler smiled. “Yes, Dr. Sharma, we still have Netflix.”

  Arjun breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

  Adam smiled. Arjun, in his own inimitable way, reminded him that it was the little things in life that delighted you and made you feel glad to be alive. Of course, he also remembered that he was going to talk to Alia Joie again tonight. That thought put an even broader smile on his face.

  * * *

  “They’re getting the plane ready, and we’re leaving as soon as we get the call,” Alia told Adam that night. She was lying in bed at the loft. It was well after midnight by then, and they’d been talking for at least two hours.

  The showing at the gallery had been a success. She’d sold quite a few paintings and had been approached by private individuals for commissions to paint their portraits in the future. But she’d made no promises and said she would let them know when she was ready for that step in her career. The gallery’s curator was happy to take down the potential clients’ contact information.

  After she’d told her family about Adam, they’d gone into action on her behalf. Her parents, brothers and her brother Chance’s girlfriend, Petra, were all set to accompany her to Arlington, Virginia, and the Pentagon. Chance had made the travel arrangements, and a car would pick her up to take her to the airport as soon as the plane was ready.

  “You should be resting,” Adam said with concern.

  “I’m too excited to sleep,” said Alia. “I’ll sleep after I’ve seen you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he tried to reassure her. Alia was lying in their king-size bed wearing her pajamas. She looked at his side of the bed, a spot that had been empty for too long. His not being there hadn’t turned her into a bed hog. She still slept on her side of the bed.

  “You keep saying that,” she said softly. “But I’m not going to be satisfied until I have you in bed beside me, where you belong.”

  Adam laughed. “All right, then. Tell me more of what I’ve missed.”

  “Mmm, let’s see.” Alia paused, then told him about the latest happenings in politics and entertainment.

  Adam laughed delightedly after she finished telling him about the new superhero movie. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  Alia giggled. She felt high with happiness. She was actually talking with her husband over the phone. She’d asked him earlier if he could use a phone with video capability, but he’d said he wanted to wait until they were face-to-face. He didn’t want his first glance of her after more than two years to be on a phone or laptop. He said when he saw her, he wanted to be able to hold her—that it would tear him up inside to see her and not be able to touch her. She’d understood because she felt the same way. She ached to be in his arms again.

  “I told you I moved from the apartment in Manhattan,” Alia continued. “Because I wanted to be closer to Mom and Dad, and I also wanted to be in the neighborhood where Grandpa Nero and Grandma Angelique used to live. But there’s more, sweetie. The building has tenants. There are eight apartments and they’re rented to fellow artists, except for one elderly couple, the Johnsons, who are the nicest people.”

  “I’m sure I’ll like them all,” Adam said. “You know, coming from the Bahamas, I don’t mind a lot of people around. Where I’m from, everyone knows everyone else. And it wasn’t unusual to have fifteen or more neighbors who’d combined their resources, around a table eating a meal together.”

  “I’m glad you’re open to the idea,” Alia said. “I doubt we’ll be having them over for dinner on a regular basis. I just wanted to prepare you for the fact that we won’t be the only people in the building.”

  “Ramona would be thrilled with the arrangement,” Adam told her. Alia smiled at the mention of his mother. She didn’t know why Adam always referred to his mother by her first name when talking about her. He called her Momma when they were together. It was a reminder of the fact that there were still things about him she didn’t know. They had, technically, been newlyweds when he’d left.

  “I often wondered why you call your mother Ramona when you’re talking about her to someone. But, to her face, you call her Momma,” Alia said.

  He laughed shortly. “Because Ramona is a character. She’s too big a personality to simply call her Momma. Her spirit is a thing with no bounds. Like you, Alia Joie. When I think of you, it’s never without the happiness that you bring to me. I don’t know. I guess I’m weird that way.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to have my weird guy back in my arms,” Alia told him, then yawned.

  Clearly Adam heard her, because he said, “It’s time for you to go to sleep, baby girl.”

  When she started to protest, he cut her off. “None of that, now. We’ll see each other tomorrow. I hope you like my new look. I got on a scale today. I’m down forty pounds.”

  Alia felt tears welling up. She tried her best not to sniff because Adam would know his comment had made her cry. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Those villains had withheld food from Adam. What other sort of mental and physical forms of torture had they used? “I love you,” she told him, her voice without a quaver that might betray her state of mind. “Mom and I will fatten you up in no time.”

  Adam laughed. “You two do like to cook together. But neither of you can bake like I can.”

  “Those are fighting words,” Alia joked. “You’re going to have to put your baked goods where my mouth is, mister!”

  Still laughing, Adam said, “Christmas is coming up. You’d better get the tins ready, because I’ll be baking and you’ll be filling the tins for friends and relatives.”

  “Can’t wait!” Alia said contentedly.

  “Then let’s say good-night as if we’ve said it to each other every night of our lives,” Adam said softly.

  Alia knew he was trying to make saying goodbye easier on her, and she accepted his gift of understanding. “Good night, sweetie.”

  “Good night, my love,” he answered.

  Alia wept after hanging up. She didn’t know whether she was crying from relief that tomorrow she was going to see Adam again, or if it was simply a way of releasing stress. Or both. But once she was cried out, she felt better, and she actually slept until near dawn, when her phone rang with news that the plane was ready.

  * * *

  The Gulfstream extended-range jet landed at Dulles International Airport in Loudoun, Virginia, early the next morning. Dressed in coats, scarves and boots for the cold weather, they got into a black SUV whose driver took them to Arlington, Virginia, where the Pentagon was located.

  Alia was tense. She could feel the tension in the air in the SUV as everyone was lost in their own thoughts. Her brother Chance sat up front with the driver. She, her parents, her brother Brock, and Chance’s lady love, Dr. Petra Gaines, took up the other two rows of seating in the large SUV. She was sitting between Petra and her mother. Chance had just asked her if she might want to stop at a luxury hotel and get some rest before going on to the Pentagon. But she couldn’t think of resting before seeing Adam. She was glad her brother knew her so well and put up no protest whatsoever when she’d stated her preference for going straight to the Pentagon.

  After that exchange, once again the tension in the SUV was so thick she could feel it. Then Brock’s stomach growled loudly. Everyone in the SUV heard it.

  “What?” Brock cried in his defense. “I haven’t eaten anything substantial in hours.”

  “You ate snacks on the plane with the rest of us,” their mot
her said.

  “Airplane snacks don’t qualify as food,” Brock replied.

  “You’ve just got a tapeworm,” their mother insisted.

  Brock sniffed the air and looked suspiciously down at their mother’s voluminous bag on her lap. “What do you have in that bag, Mom?”

  Alia also sniffed the air. “I smell cinnamon,” she said, siding with her brother. She was a little hungry herself. Stress always made her crave something to chew on, which was a habit she worked against because she didn’t want to become dependent on comfort food to quell her emotions.

  Their mom laughed, then went into her bag and pulled out a huge zippered bag of homemade oatmeal cookies. Alia recognized them at once as one of Adam’s favorite recipes. He put not only raisins in the mix but shredded coconut, walnuts and chocolate chips. Her mother deposited the bag in her lap. “When I couldn’t sleep, I made Adam’s favorite cookies.”

  Alia smiled at her mother. “You’re so sweet for thinking of him. Thank you!”

  “Oh, baby, we love him, too,” her mother said.

  Alia heard Brock clear his throat and guessed what was coming next. Brock, a tall, handsome man who was over thirty and formerly a person with total self-control, looked at that bag like a five-year-old with a cookie craving. “May I have one of those?” he asked.

  Alia laughed and passed the bag to Petra. “Why not?” she said. “I think we could all use a cookie right about now.”

  Petra opened the bag and passed it around, and for the next few minutes, all you could hear in the SUV was the sound of seven adults, including the driver, devouring homemade oatmeal cookies.

  The tension was broken by baked goods. Under the circumstances, Alia thought Adam would have thought that quite funny.

  About forty minutes later, the SUV was on the grounds of the Pentagon, and a few minutes after that, they were being escorted into Colonel Edward Butler’s office. Chairs were brought to accommodate all of them, after which the colonel solemnly regarded them and began, first of all apologizing for how long it had taken the government to bring Adam home.

  Alia couldn’t have been less interested in their apology and tried to contain her irritation. She simply wanted to see Adam. She sat silently, however, while he had his say and then forewarned them not to look surprised when they saw Adam because his appearance had changed substantially since they’d last set eyes on him.

  Alia was prepared for this because Adam had already told her his physical appearance might come as a shock to her. She felt she was prepared for anything.

  Finally the colonel said, “So, if you’re ready, I’ll take you to Dr. Braithwaite.”

  Boy, the Pentagon is big, Alia thought as she and her party walked down the vast corridor with Colonel Butler. The wide-block stone floors were white and looked like they were cleaned every day. The sound of their heels and the faint murmur of people’s voice in adjacent corridors and in offices they passed were the only noise. Alia got more anxious with each door they passed. She kept thinking this was where the colonel would stop. But they kept walking.

  The colonel finally stopped at a door and indicated with a nod in its direction that they were at their destination. He knocked politely on the door before opening it and strolling inside, saying, “Dr. Braithwaite, your family is here to take you home.”

  He turned then and walked away, leaving them to their privacy. Alia walked in first, closely followed by her party.

  It was a large room, and her initial glimpse of Adam was from about ten feet away. He was standing quite still, his body turned toward her. She kept moving closer to him. She noticed that everyone else had halted just inside the room. But she couldn’t have stopped walking toward Adam if her life had depended on it.

  He was thinner. He was wearing a short-sleeve blue T-shirt and gray sweatpants with a pair of black athletic shoes. Formerly his body type had been like that of a professional football player in perfect form. He had been 250 pounds of muscle when he’d left. He still looked like an athlete, but now he had the body type of a basketball player, lanky and muscular. Except it was his eyes that she was looking at. As if by silent consensus, they were moving slowly toward each other. His face crinkled in a smile. A small, tentative smile that tugged at her heart. It was as if he were afraid she might not like what she saw. Her smile grew broader, and tears formed in her eyes. Not like what she saw? That was ludicrous! He was beautiful! His head was bald as a cue ball and looked as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

  It was with relief that she threw herself into his arms at last, and whispered, “Adam, my Adam, I thought I’d lost you forever!”

  “Alia Joie!” he cried, and then they were kissing each other’s faces and she was in his arms, and they were hugging so tightly she felt she could meld with him if it were humanly possible.

  They drew back momentarily to peer into each other’s eyes. Their grins encompassed their whole faces now. Alia stared into his milk-chocolate-colored eyes. Eyes she’d fallen in love with over a cup of coffee three years ago when, on a whim, she’d asked him to join her for a cup. It had been a case of smitten at first sight. He’d just given a speech at an awards ceremony her family’s company was sponsoring. She hadn’t organized the ceremony, so she hadn’t known who the speakers would be before she got there. She’d heard of the brilliant Bahamian physicist whose out-of-this-world ideas were the talk of the scientific community and had earned him notoriety in the mainstream world, as well. He was charismatic and articulate, from humble beginnings, and was an inspiration to a lot of people. She’d seen him on a late-night talk show once, promoting one of his books. She’d thought he was good-looking and charming then. But when she’d seen him in person, she’d been blown away by his presence. She thought she would be a fool if she ignored the opportunity to get to know him better, so she’d worked up the nerve to ask him for a coffee. Ten months later, they were married.

  Now, after a prolonged separation due to circumstances neither of them had any control over, they were finally back together.

  “You’re everything to me,” she breathed, smiling up at him.

  “You’re more beautiful than I remembered,” was his response. “I must have done something right in my former life!”

  She giggled and hugged him again.

  Then the others descended on them, and everyone was crying, including her father and brothers and her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Petra, whom she already loved like a sister.

  She hoped their enthusiasm wasn’t overwhelming Adam. She didn’t know how he was feeling inside. How he was coping with all this hoopla. The Adam she used to know was a gregarious person who loved being around people. But after being mostly isolated for months and months, as he’d told her over the phone, this might be sensory overload for him. So, after only a few minutes of hugs and exclamations, Alia put her arm through Adam’s and respectfully suggested they be given a few minutes in private. Her loved ones promptly left the room to wait outside.

  Alone with Adam, she looked into his eyes. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.”

  Adam smiled ruefully. “I just want to sleep in my own bed with you, babe. I feel so tired.”

  She nodded. He did look tired. The weight loss made his cheekbones very prominent and his jawline more angular. There were dark circles under his eyes. So he obviously hadn’t been sleeping well. Most of all, though, his eyes were guarded, as if he feared sharing what he was truly feeling deep inside. She had never before seen that reflected in their depths.

  She took his hand. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 4

  Adam brushed his teeth three times before he was satisfied that every surface was clean and particle free. Realistically, he knew why he was doing it. His tendency toward obsessive-compulsive disorder was rearing its familiar old head. He had suffered from this when he was a teenager but had, in essence, talked himself out of it. Sy
mptoms hadn’t manifested themselves in years. Yes, he sometimes found himself being overly organized, but it was nothing compared to counting everything and having to check multiple times whether he’d turned off the stove or electrical appliances that might start a fire before leaving his apartment.

  Now, knowing Alia Joie was on the way, he’d stood at the bathroom sink and brushed his teeth three times, gazing in the mirror, inspecting his perfectly white teeth again and again.

  He found himself worrying that his breath might offend her when they hugged hello or when they kissed. The kiss had to be perfect. The kiss had to be solid proof that the man holding her was the same one who’d left her. So he had to make sure his breath would be minty fresh when their lips touched.

  After obsessing about his breath, he took a long, hot shower and dressed in the clothes they’d brought him. He didn’t waste time worrying that they weren’t the brand he usually wore. He was just grateful they fit. They were fine. He was fine. Or so he tried to convince himself.

  Where was this insecurity coming from? Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen so much as a photograph of Alia Joie since his kidnapping. He thought he’d remembered everything about her. He’d had her image firmly etched in his mind. Or was his mind lying to him? He knew one thing for sure: when they were together, he’d always thought he’d married up. She was clearly out of his league. How had he convinced himself he was good enough for her?

  It wasn’t that she carried herself like a rich spoiled brat. Alia Joie was so down-to-earth you wouldn’t know she’d been born into a wealthy family. She was warm and generous, and she was at home anywhere. She had friends from all walks of life. No, she had never made him feel like he was beneath her. That feeling was due to his own upbringing—simply the consequence of being born poor. He knew the lack of money didn’t mean your circumstances were never going to change for the better. His parents had inculcated in him the notion that a person could become anything he wanted to be, as long as he worked hard enough.