Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Her words sink in and take root in the part of me that’s been fighting to believe I can still salvage the mess between Lauren and me. That Lauren might still look at me the way she did before the fire. Her laugh is soft and her eyes are warm. However, I don’t want to fold right now, especially not in my mother's presence.
She places a kiss on my cheek and straightens. “I’d love to meet her.”
I’m immediately alarmed. “Absolutely not.”
She scowls at me. “Are you going to tell me where she is, or do I have to find out by myself?”
“Please stay out.” I sigh. “I know you mean well, but please, don’t meddle. Just let me handle it my way.”
She gives me a long look, then she smiles. “Fine.”
This is not an assurance that she is not going to involve herself. I know that tone, and I know she is going to go in search of Lauren regardless of my disagreement.
“Mother,” I call out, but she’s already on her way.
“I hear you,” she says.
“I don’t want you to hear me. I want you to stay out of my business.”
She pauses just as she gets to the door and glances back. “What you should be doing is commissioning one of your best architects to rebuild her house. You know what she likes. Actions speak louder than words. I’d get started on that instead of moping, if I were you.”
With this, she heads out, and I’m left staring at the shut door, more annoyed than ever. Still, a piece of me, I have to admit, is somewhat relieved. I seem to have found a light at the end of the tunnel, a possible way out of this mess, even if I have to battle with my pride. After a few more minutes of wallowing, I give in, and dial Athena.
“Hello,” she responds brightly, eager and professional as always.
“I need you to get the best architect you can find to come to the manor. I need him or her here first thing in the morning. You can arrange to fly them over on the helicopter. I have a project that needs to be started immediately.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replies. “I’ll get right on it.”
I end the call, my pulse quickening, because I finally have a game plan. I’m going to rebuild her cottage. I tell myself that it is not all for her. I can’t exactly leave it as the blackened eyesore that it is next to my manor. This alone is reason enough. The rest I will leave it to fate.
This is all that my pride can take at this moment.
Chapter
Fifty-One
LAUREN
I’m standing barefoot on the worn linoleum in Annabel’s tiny kitchen, the air warm with the tangy aroma of tomato soup simmering on the stove. Despite how cramped the apartment is, the kitchen and living room squeezed into one space, a faded floral curtain partitioning off Annabel’s bedroom in the corner, it has become my refuge, a shield from the manor, from the charred ruins of my cottage, from Hugh.
I watch the steam curling upward and once again get lost in thoughts of him.
My hands tremble as I stir the soup, the wooden spoon scraping the pot’s bottom, my reflection distorted in its stainless-steel surface—pale, hollow-eyed, still carrying the weight of the fire and the betrayal. I’m sad, so sad, the grief is like a heavy stone in my chest, and no matter how much I try to dislodge it, it remains in place.
I should be making arrangements to sell and go back home, but for the life of me, I can’t. I just can’t give up. I put too much into this venture. Way too much.
An incoming call suddenly interrupts my wallowing so I wipe my hands on a dish towel and head over to pick up my phone. It’s a video call from Sandy. Good, she is the one person I’m truly happy to see and speak to.
I tap the answer button, and Sandy’s face appears, her Chicago apartment bright behind her, a stark contrast to my cluttered background.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she greets.
I smile back in response. “Hey… I just spoke to you. Why are you calling again?”
I know she's worried but I've told her several times that I'm fine. I should have known she wouldn’t listen.
“Don’t worry, I’m not calling to check on you. I’m calling this time so we can make a plan. You’re not the kind to stay too long with someone who is virtually a stranger; you’ll start getting uncomfortable soon.”
“No, I like Annabel. She’s been a real friend to me. You don’t often find people understand girl-code the way she does. She’s an absolute gem.”
“Anyway… this is what I’m thinking: It’s been a couple of days, Lauren, and I think it’s time that you go back to the cottage so you can figure out what to do. I know it’s still raw, but you’ve had time to think. It’s time to move forward. One way or another.”