Then Came You

a note from the author Dear Reader, Then Came You is a re-imagined, re-written, and re-edited version of my very first book, Rise. When I wrote this book in 2016, I had no knowledge of the craft called writing and storytelling. But I wrote Simon and Addie straight from my heart and thousands of you fell in love with them in that original version. When I decided to revisit the story to give it a polish, the last thing I wanted to do was lose the parts of the story that my very first readers still think about all these years later. This revision was an intentional, deeply thought out labor of love. And I’d do it all again because these two deserve a story as epic as their love. Simon and Adelaide a very unlikely pair, but absolutely perfect for each other. There’s also something magical about them meeting in a global crossroad like London. I hope you love them. Happy reading! With all of my gratitude, Dylan. contents Addie 1. Addie FIFTEEN YEARS LATER 2. Addie 3. Addie 4. Simon 5. Addie 6. Simon 7. Addie 8. Simon 9. Addie 10. Simon 11. Addie 12. Addie 13. Simon 14. Addie 15. Simon 16. Addie 17. Simon 18. Addie 19. Simon 20. Addie 21. Simon 22. Addie 23. Addie 24. Simon 25. Addie 26. Simon 27. Addie 28. Simon 29. Addie 30. Addie 31. Addie 32. Simon 33. Addie 34. Simon 35. Simon 36. Addie 37. Simon 38. Addie 39. Simon 40. Addie 41. Simon 42. Addie 43. Addie 44. Addie 45. Simon 46. Addie 47. Addie 48. Addie 49. Simon 50. Addie 51. Simon 52. Addie 53. Addie Addie Simon Addie Also by Dylan Allen All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. (c) Dylan Allen Books 2023 Created with Vellum addie Prologue rude awakening Her sobs drag me out of sleep with a vicious yank. I sit straight up, wide awake and on alert. That sounded like my mother. But, it couldn’t have been. I hear it again, louder this time and my heart thuds hard against my ribs. It is definitely a woman’s high-pitched crying. My alarm clock blares 6:42 AM. That means my older sisters have been gone for at least thirty minutes already. My mother and I are the only women in this house right now but…I’ve never in my thirteen years seen her cry. Not even at her own mother’s funeral. I sit trying to make sense of what I’m hearing until my 6:45 AM alarm goes off and shakes me out of my stupor. Her sobs are louder now. Something has happened to my father. Nothing else could make her sound like this. Heart racing, I slap the top to silence my alarm, slide out of bed, and race out of my room, terrified. My father is my hero and my best friend. If something is wrong with him, I need to get there and help him. “I’m coming,” I call out and run toward their bedroom my hand extended to grasp the handle and open it. I’m a few paces away when my mother’s crying stops abruptly and the door opens. My father steps out, arms open as if he expected me to be running at him. I try to slow down and avoid the cage his arms have made, but my socked feet on the wooden floor make it impossible. My father swoops me up and away from the door with one arm and closes the door to their bedroom with the other. My mother forgotten for the moment I sag in his hold and sob. “Oh my God, Daddy. I thought you were dead.” “Shu Habibi?” he whispers in my ear like he used to when I woke up with nightmares and he would hold me until I felt better. “It’s fine. Your mother got some bad news from home, but she’s fine,” he says and carries me back to my room and sets me on my feet right outside the door. “Is she okay?” I ask, but he’s already walking away from me. “Yes. Get ready for school and I’ll make you breakfast,” he calls over his shoulder. He doesn’t sound like anything’s wrong. “I’ll miss my bus,” I remind him. “I’ll drop you off.” He looks over his shoulder with a frown on his face. “Move it…I’m serving pancakes in fifteen minutes.” I wait for his frown to turn into a smile and a wink, but he turns away and walks out without another word. People say I get my drive from my father, my composure from my mom. They’re only partially right. It may take a lot to make me cry, but she never cries. In fact, My mother’s super power was smiling in the face of disaster and turning it into a triumph. A week ago, there’d been a day when everything went wrong; The chicken she spent all day making ended up all over the kitchen floor, my dad’s flight was late getting in, and her car’s battery was dead. But dinner was hot and fresh when we gathered round our beautifully set dining table that evening. Her smile was full of contentment and she looked like she’d spent the day at a spa. What news from home could possibly have brought her to tears? I glance back my parents’ closed bedroom door and my stomach tight with worry as I listen for sounds of her crying. It’s quiet and if Daddy says she’s okay, then she’s