Chapter 46
46
ROMAN
T he house was oppressively quiet, a silence that had grown heavier with each passing day. I lingered outside the kitchen, listening to the muffled sounds of the staff going about their work. Pots clanged, water ran, but there was no laughter, no casual chatter.
Kaira had brought something to this house I hadn’t realized was missing until it was gone. Without her, the house felt more like a tomb than a home. I hated it and I hated myself for creating it.
My choice to end the contract and essentially throw her out on her ass affected a lot more than just me. They were all feeling her loss. It had turned this into a house of mourning.
I glanced at my watch, realizing how much time I’d been wasting just standing there, lost in remorse. With an audible sigh, I stepped into the kitchen. The staff turned to look at me—some paused, some tried to offer a smile of greeting that didn’t quite reach their eyes.
“Morning, everyone,” I said, my voice hoarse. There were murmurs of “morning” in reply, but none of them held the warmth they used to. I couldn’t blame them. They didn’t want to look me in the eyes.
I poured myself a coffee and tried to act casual, but the tension in the air was suffocating.
“Could you all join me in the dining room?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. “Whatever you’re working on can wait. Bring a coffee, tea, whatever you’d like. I’ll need about an hour of your time.”
There were a few hesitant nods, but nobody moved. “Please.”
Slowly, they filtered out of the kitchen, glancing at one another as if trying to figure out what this was about. They probably assumed I was about to fire them or scold them for allowing water spots on the glasses or a speck of dust on the shelves in the library.
They weren’t wrong to suspect that was what was coming. The old Roman, the Roman before Kaira came into my life, would have done that. Hell, I did do that. I was meticulous and liked things a certain way. I hated when it wasn’t done the way I wanted.
I followed them into the dining room, where the rest of the house staff had already gathered. I’d called ahead to bring everyone together. About fifteen to twenty people filled the space, their faces a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.
I cleared my throat and stood at the head of the table. “Thank you all for coming. I know this isn’t normal, and I appreciate you taking the time. We have some things to talk about. Please, everyone have a seat.”
There was a shuffle of feet and the scrape of chairs as they sat down, their expressions guarded. I couldn’t blame them. I hadn’t exactly been approachable. None of them said a word. I was pretty sure a few of them weren’t even breathing. I hated that I had made them feel like I was the big bad wolf and their jobs were always in danger.
I clasped my hands together, inhaling deeply before I spoke. “I want to start by apologizing. I know I’ve made this house feel like a battleground. I know I’ve made all of you feel like you’re walking on eggshells, and that’s on me.”
The room was silent, but the tension eased slightly. Their expressions shifted from fear to confusion.
“For years, I’ve used this house, and by extension, all of you, as a shield. When things were hard, when the outside world got too loud, I took it out on you. I created an environment where no matter what you did, it felt like it wasn’t good enough. And that’s not fair. You deserve better.”
Still, nobody spoke, but I could see the emotions on their faces. The uncertainty, disbelief, maybe even relief.
“I’ve been carrying around a lot of anger and grief for a long time,” I admitted. “And instead of dealing with it, I lashed out at the people who’ve been there for me the most. That’s you. You’ve been here for me in ways no one else has. When I lost my parents, you were the ones who kept me going. You tried to fill the void they left behind, and I’ve never properly thanked you for that. All of you stepped up when you didn’t have to.” I turned to the gardener. “When you insisted I help you in the solarium, I never really understood what you were doing. But now I see it was your way of trying to bring me back to life. You spent time with me and comforted me without offering the usual condolences.”
“It was my pleasure,” he murmured.
I looked at Marilyn, who had tears shining in her eyes. “And you, you have been a constant in my life longer than anyone else. You have been a mother to me and I have done a shitty job of showing you how important you are to me.” I swallowed hard, feeling my own eyes start to burn with unshed tears. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve overlooked that, taken your presence for granted, and for all the unnecessary harshness.”
The room was heavy with emotions, a collective breath being held as if the walls themselves were waiting to exhale.
“I know apologies can’t undo the past, but I’m here now, ready to make amends and move forward with a better understanding and appreciation of what each of you brings to the table.”
A few people wiped at their eyes. I swallowed hard and continued. “I realize now how wrong I’ve been. Kaira—” I paused, her name catching in my throat. “She held up a mirror to me, and I didn’t like what I saw. But she taught me something important: the only way to move forward is to face the truth, no matter how ugly it is.”
I looked around the room, meeting each person’s gaze in turn. “I’ve been selfish. I’ve used you all as my punching bags on bad days, and I am so, so sorry for that. I can’t change the past, but I promise you, I will do better moving forward.”
For a moment, the room was still. Then, Marilyn stood and approached me. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears as she wrapped her arms around me. The hug startled me, but not as much as what she whispered in my ear.
“I love you, Roman,” she said, her voice raw with emotion. “I’ve wanted to do this for twenty years. When you were little, you used to let me hug you. After we lost your parents, you recoiled any time I tried. Let me hug you.”
I stiffened, unaccustomed to this kind of vulnerability, but as her arms tightened around me, something inside me cracked. I leaned into her embrace, resting my head on her shoulder. The discomfort of being seen so completely was almost unbearable, but I let it happen.
Marilyn pulled back slightly, cupping my face in her hands like she used to when I was a boy. “We’ve always loved you,” she said softly. “We just didn’t know how to reach you anymore. Why do you think we all stayed? It wasn’t your sunny personality. We have all felt a responsibility for you. We loved your parents and many of us vowed to remain loyal to them. We knew they would want us to stick around. We needed to fill in the void they left. I know we can never replace your beautiful mom and dad, but we all want to try. You were such a beautiful, happy boy. We’ve always known he was still in there somewhere. When Kaira came into the house, we saw that little boy once again.”
I nodded, unable to find the words to respond.
As I straightened, I noticed movement at the edge of the room. Ruby stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. For weeks, we hadn’t spoken, the fallout of my explosion the day Kaira left still hanging between us. But now, as our eyes met, she gave me a small, tentative smile.
The staff began to murmur amongst themselves, some quietly thanking me, others offering reassurances that they believed in my sincerity. But my focus was on Ruby.
“Ruby,” I said, my voice steady. “We need to talk.”
She nodded and gestured for me to follow her. I left the staff in the dining room and followed her to her favorite sitting room. She sat on the couch, her posture relaxed.
“Well, that was unexpected,” she said.
I sat across from her, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “I had to do it. I’ve been a nightmare to everyone in this house, including you.”
“You have,” she said bluntly. “But why now? What changed?”
I hesitated, searching for the right words. “Kaira made me see things differently. She didn’t put up with my bullshit, and she called me out on things I’d been ignoring for years. She made me realize that if I kept going the way I was, I’d end up alone in every sense of the word.”
Ruby studied me, her expression softening. “She left an impression on you.”
“She did,” I admitted. “And now she’s gone, and I’ve spent weeks pushing everyone else away, too. I can’t keep doing that. I don’t want to go back to that same cold and lonely place I was in before she came here.”
She nodded slowly. “Roman, you’ve been hurting for a long time. Losing your parents, growing up the way you did—it’s enough to break anyone. But you’ve always had this need to prove you could handle it all on your own. I know I should have been a better aunt. I wanted to, but you pushed me away. You were so capable and independent. I was wrong to think that’s what I should have given you. I should have been around more. I left you alone for too long. You’re not alone, Roman. You don’t ever have to be. Not anymore.”
“I know that now,” I said. “Or at least, I’m trying to.”
Ruby smiled. “I’m proud of you. For doing this, for apologizing. It’s a start. A big one. Those people in that room would walk through fire for you. Most of them, anyway. I do hope you can appreciate that.”
I nodded, feeling a weight lift slightly at her words, though the burden of my past actions still sat heavily with me. “I want to,” I replied honestly. “I really want to start seeing things differently, Ruby. I want to believe that people care. Like really care. I’m jaded. I know that. I want to be different.”
“They do care, Roman. More than you know. It’s always been more than duty for them, for us. We stayed because we wanted to be here for you, because we care about you.”
“Thank you for being so patient with me. I’ve spent the last month replaying every word and action I’ve made over the years. I feel like such an ass.”
“Admitting you have a problem is the first step,” she said with a small laugh. “You’ll be better. I know you will. Take some time. I know your instinct is to chase after Kaira, but I think you need to let that rest a bit. Work on you. Heal. Then maybe there will be a chance.”
I shook my head. “That ship has sailed. I’m not putting her through that again. I’m just glad for the time we had.”