Chapter 3
DARWYNN
I paced back and forth until the afternoon came, and after another trip to the general store and cooking myself an early dinner, I was finally ready to walk over to Caspian’s house and knock on his door.
My heart was hammering against my chest as I walked along the gravel path that led to his house. The small home sat at the edge of the water, and the peeling paint and uneven porch gave it a kind of charm. It looked like the kind of place someone went to escape the world.
Clearly, Caspian King had succeeded in that.
I stood on the porch for a moment, staring at the door. My nerves threatened to talk me out of this, but I shook them off and knocked. Three sharp knocks, louder than I intended.
It was quiet at first, and I wondered if he’d even heard me. He must’ve. I basically hammered my knuckles against the door.
Heavy footsteps grew closer, followed by the creak of the door.
Caspian appeared in front of me, his frame filling the doorway. He was broad-shouldered and tall, his gray hair pushed back and tucked behind his ears. His brown eyes landed on me with suspicion, narrowing slightly as he crossed his strong arms over his chest.
How old was he again?
60?
For that age, he was still in incredibly good shape.
Muscular.
Handsome.
“Who are you?” he asked roughly, his tone making it clear that whatever I said next had better be good.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
Jesus Christ…Caspian King is fucking handsome.
“My name is Darwynn,” I said slowly, almost as if I wasn’t sure.
“Darwynn,” he repeated, his voice flat. “That’s supposed to mean something to me?”
I hesitated. “Not yet. But I hoped you’d give me a few minutes to explain.”
His eyes moved over me, taking in my jeans and jacket and the faint nervousness I was trying to hide. “Let me guess,” he said, his tone dripping with skepticism. “You’re one of Theresa’s nieces wanting an autograph. I told her not to tell anyone about me being here.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and linked my fingers behind my back. “Uh, no, I’m not related to Theresa.”
“Then why are you here?” His voice was demanding, his gaze intense.
“I…” My lips were pressed into a thin line as I weighed my options. Telling the truth or lying. I had played that game about ten times in the past two days. “I’m Darwynn Cove. Your son’s girlfriend.”
Ex.
But it didn’t matter right now.
His facial expression changed instantly. Almost as if the mention of his son made him remember that he was a father.
His eyes wandered all over my face, then he looked behind me, searching for someone else to stand there. “Is he here too?” he asked.
“No, it’s just me,” I told him with a tight smile. “Julian is back home in Burlington.”
“Hm.” His eyes were back on mine. “And you’re here because…”
Here we go.
“Because Julian asked me to check on you.”
Yet.
Another.
Lie.
“He keeps on talking about you, and we saw the interview.”
His brows raised. Nothing I was saying to him made sense.
And, truthfully, nothing was making any sense to me either. Not after all these lies and made up stories.
My mind was all over the place.
“My son—who never cared to call or text me back all these years—asked his girlfriend to drive all the way from Burlington to this shitty place…to check on me?”
I nodded slowly. Very slowly.
My heart skipped a few beats. God , I wanted to run and never look back.
I never should’ve come here.
His eyes didn’t leave my face as he continued to study me, letting my words linger between us.
Instead of questioning my being there, he narrowed his eyes and changed the subject.
“You’re strange looking.”
I raised a brow. “Excuse you?”
He scoffed as if I had been the one saying something rude about his appearance, and he waved a hand before turning back around to head inside. “Take off your shoes.”
“You just called me ugly!”
My feelings were slightly hurt, and despite his invitation, my feet didn’t move.
He was letting me in. I didn’t expect him to.
Hell, I didn’t think he’d even talk to me.
Yet, here I was, staring at his back as he walked toward the couches in his small living room.
“I did not call you ugly. Close the door on your way in.”
I stepped inside hesitantly, shutting the door behind me as Caspian’s deep voice ordered. The house was dimly lit, the curtains mostly drawn, but the faint smell of coffee and woodsmoke gave the place an oddly homey vibe. The furniture was mismatched and well-worn, and books and papers were scattered on nearly every surface.
It looked as if he kept busy.
Not in a way I thought he would.
Caspian didn’t wait for me to catch up to him. He dropped into the sagging armchair, gesturing vaguely toward the couch. “Sit. Talk. Whatever this is, make it quick. And don’t lie again.”
“What do you mean?” I asked with a nervous laugh.
He caught me. He had no idea who the fuck I was, but he knew I lied.
“You lied. Just then. The reason why you’re here. You lied about that,” he said dryly.
“But I am your son’s girlfriend,” I stated—which was still a lie—but he didn’t seem to think it was.
I sat down on the edge of the couch, my nerves still buzzing.
“I believe that,” he assured me.
Caspian’s sharp eyes were fixed on me, waiting, but his posture was casual, almost lazy, like he didn’t want to give me the satisfaction of knowing he cared at all about why I was there.
“You sure are strange looking.”
Again?
Damn, Caspian.
“How so?” I asked, not allowing him to critique how I looked without a good reason.
He studied me again, his eyes narrowing for a split second. He lifted his hand, waving it at me. “The eyes…”
“Heterochromia,” I explained.
One blue eye.
One brown eye.
“I know what heterochromia is.”
“Then why are you acting like you’ve seen it for the first time?” I challenged.
He didn’t react to that. He kept on studying me. “And the freckles. Strange pattern,” he stated.
Because my freckles were only scattered on the right side of my face. The side on which my brown eye was.
“I’m aware.”
“Beautiful.”
My jaw dropped, and his eyes widened.
He didn’t mean to say that out loud.
But after the initial shock, it made me feel some type of way.
“Thank you.”
He cleared his throat and adjusted his posture. “So,” he said, his tone flat. “What’s this about? Why are you really here?”
I took a deep breath. “Julian has talked about you a lot. Like, almost every week. And whenever he did, it was only negatively. At first, I didn’t really care about the things he said about because, well, you weren’t really in the picture. But the more he talked badly about you, and the more I started to learn about who you were as a person, the more I tried to understand what really happened between the two of you.”
I stopped, needing to take a breather. I hadn’t come here with a plan or actual reason, but the words I said sounded convincing. So convincing, in fact, that I started to believe it all myself.
My heartbeat slowed down when I saw the tension in his face ease a little, and because I was such an empath—or thought I was—I immediately felt bad about lying to him about my actual relationship status with his son. “And, uh, by the way…Julian’s my ex. We broke up a couple of months ago.”
That didn’t faze him.
Not one bit.
“You lie a lot,” he said bluntly.
But that didn’t hurt me half as much as when he said that I looked strange.
“Not usually, I promise!” A nervous laugh bubble up. “I just…needed an excuse to come here.”
He kept studying me. “My son has never been very kind toward me,” he muttered, reaching for a mug on the side table. He took a long sip, his eyes never leaving mine. “So, Julian has no clue that you’re here?”
I shook my head, and I thought I caught a flicker of something in his eyes for a moment. Disappointment, maybe. But it disappeared as quickly as it came. “Huh, figures.” He leaned back in his chair, setting the mug down. “So, what? You just decided to track me down for kicks? How’d you do that? Nobody really knows I’m here. That’s why I like it.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that at all. I was on a road trip, and two nights ago, I was ready to return home. To my hometown, that is. Nashua.”
He didn’t say another word, waiting for me to continue my story of how I ended up here.
“I was eating dinner at Lakeside Lodge—”
“In Sault Ste. Marie?”
“Yes. And I was talking to the waitress when you came up in the conversation. You came up because there were pictures of famous people on the wall. She said one actor didn’t want his picture on that wall. She told me it was you, and I lied about knowing you—” I stopped when I realized that I had admitted to lying to other people.
Shit, I’m really not making myself look too good here.
He raised a brow, and I continued before he could call me a liar again.
“…in the hopes that she would tell me where you lived. She believed me that I didn’t know you—technically, I don’t, so that wasn’t a lie—and she told me you lived here. Hidden from the world. All alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
I liked to believe that, but he seemed pretty damn lonely to me.
“So, you’ve seen me now. I’m just fine being all alone . Happy? Will you leave now?”
I couldn’t hide a grin.
He was charming, in a way.
“Happy that I got to meet you? Yes. Will I leave? No. I booked a tiny house by the campsite for two weeks.”
He sucked in a deep breath. I watched as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands together. “Right.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“No.”
I raised a brow. “Theresa was right. You’re kind of an asshole.”
“Did she say that?”
I shrugged. “Maybe not with those exact words, but hers intended the same.”
A sigh left him, and he looked at me with furrowed brows. “What do you want to know, kid?”
“I would like to understand why…” I trailed off, unsure how to phrase it without setting him off. Anything could trigger him, it seemed. “Why things ended up the way they did.”
His jaw tightened, and he let out a low laugh, though no humor existed. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that. What things?”
He wasn’t making this easy, but I hadn’t expected him to. “Why did you and Julian stop talking? What was the real reason?”
Caspian’s expression darkened, and he looked away. His gaze shifted to the window. “That’s between Julian and me. It’s got nothing to do with you.”
Not directly. But it was part of our nightly discussions.
I was the one studying him now. His gaze was locked on the window.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to discuss it now. But…maybe someday?” I asked, my voice filled with hope.
He didn’t respond, his fingers tapping on the chair's armrest. The silence stretched, and I wasn’t sure if he was ignoring me or just thinking about how to tell me to leave.
“I started to wonder more about you the more Julian mentioned your name. I just know that his side of the story isn’t the full truth. And since I’m here now, I would really like to find out your side. And while I’m not with him anymore, I would still like to get you two to meet and talk.”
“And what in the world do you get out of that?” he asked.
His question was very valid.
I shrugged and took a moment to gather my thoughts. “I don’t know, probably nothing. I know this isn’t really about me, but I have a strong feeling that I can help you get some closure. After everything Julian told me, it just feels right to hear your side too. I thought, if I could help in any way, it might clear the air.”
Caspian’s sharp gaze met mine again, and I could see that he was analyzing me. “You’re still a kid,” he said, his voice steady.
“I’m twenty-one,” I countered, trying to inject a bit of confidence into my voice.
“Still a kid,” he muttered. “You think you can just waltz in here, play mediator between father and son, and somehow expect to change things? Nothing is that simple.”
“Maybe not,” I admitted, my nerves re-emerging. “But if you care—which I imagine you do, at least a little—what’s stopping you from trying?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You have guts, I’ll give you that,” he said, a hint of approval in his voice.
I smiled gently, feeling the tension between us ease again. “I’m not forcing you, Caspian. I just think it would be nice. For you and Julian. I can give you some time to think about it. I’ll be here for two weeks, anyway.”
Caspian sighed. “And what if I told you to fuck off right now and leave me the fuck alone?”
I shrugged. A sharp feeling stung my heart. “I’d respectfully keep my distance, but I wouldn’t leave because I already paid for the tiny house for the next two weeks. And I really like it there.”
He laughed dryly, running his hands through his surprisingly full hair. “Stubborn little thing.”
I didn’t know if that was a compliment or an insult, but I let it slide. And, in a way, him calling me little thing did something to me in a weirdly sexual way.
There was silence again. He stared at me like he was trying to decide if I was worth the trouble. Just like Theresa had.
For some reason, Theresa was scarier.
Finally, he spoke. “You really aren’t leaving.”
“Nope.” I couldn’t hide a grin. It seemed like he was letting his guard down.
“Don’t get your hopes up, kid. I’m not just going to open up to a stranger who used to date my son who I haven’t seen in years.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said with a small smile.
Caspian scoffed, shaking his head. “We’ll see how long you last around me.”