Chapter Twenty-Six
Rygaard
Time sure does fly when you're having fun.At least, that's what they say. I wouldn't know. I haven't had fun since the day my father tore me away from Presley. Not a single day has passed that she hasn’t haunted my mind.
I've written her two thousand eight hundred letters. One letter for every damn day we've been apart.
Life carried on without me, but I never stopped loving her. Even when my father, and Sylvia’s, thought they'd mapped out our lives for us. Even when they planned our marriage like a business transaction.
It took a few years for Sylvia and me to break free, to take our lives back from the people who thought they owned them.
Now, here I am, back home. Ready to get my girl back.
If she still wants me.
Sylvia’s boyfriend, now her husband, was supposed to deliver a message to Presley for me years ago.
Turns out, he never even got the chance.
Our walls had ears. Our lives were never our own. I should've seen it coming. I knew how conniving my father could be. But I let it slip through the cracks, and Phillip paid the price for it.
He survived, but just barely. Hospitalized for weeks. After that, Sylvia and I knew: we couldn’t afford another mistake.
So we came up with a plan. We pretended to fall madly in love, to give our parents exactly what they wanted. All while secretly plotting our escape.
It wasn’t hard to sell. Our lives had been groomed for this moment since before we could speak.Marry, merge fortunes, expand the family empire. But behind the scenes, we were burning it all down.
I overheard my father once, gloating over the phone about how this all started. How he was handed everything he ever wanted, Including my mother.
She was married to someone ‘beneath’ him. When she wouldn't leave her husband, my father killed the man.
Right in front of her.Then he kidnapped her, forced her into a marriage she couldn't escape.
Looking in from the outside, you’d never know it.She played her part so well, smiling on command. Until one day, after years of captivity… she started to fall for him.
Maybe it was survival.
Maybe it was Stockholm syndrome.
Maybe it was just pure exhaustion.
Whatever it was, it didn’t make my father a good man. It made him a monster. One who’d tear the world apart to get what he wanted.
And me? I was supposed to be his final masterpiece. The golden boy.
The one who would carry the bloodline forward, expand the oil fields and rake in the millions he thought he deserved. But Sylvia and I had other plans.
Our wedding day was supposed to be the pinnacle of his success. We were dressed to the nines, Prada, Armani, Tiffany’s diamonds glittering under the lights. All of it felt hollow to me.
Presley should’ve been the one beside me.
Sylvia, though? She used it. She flaunted every penny, every stolen moment.
“Fuck them," she said. “They owe us more than money can pay. Might as well bleed them dry.” I couldn’t agree more. We set up accounts no one could trace. Enough money tucked away to start over. Freedom bought and paid for.
When the preacher asked if there were any objections, our fathers didn’t expect it to come from us .
Jaws dropped. Curses flew. Threats were made.
But we didn’t care.We rode off into the sunset, finally free.
That was almost two years ago.
A plan years in the making.
I steer my Ford King Ranch down Main Street, taking it all in. Some things have changed. Not much. Just enough that someone who's been gone this long would notice.
Hooking a right, I pull into Harper and Grace Realty, kill the engine, and climb out. The second I walk inside, a wave of heavy floral scent hits me like a brick wall.
“Damn, that’s strong,” I mutter, heading toward the counter.
"Hiya! How can I help you?" a woman chirps, popping up from behind the desk.
"Name’s Rygaard Garrison. I’ve got an appointment with Bill Baxton. Looking to buy a house and some land."
She squints at me, shifting her glasses like she’s trying to dial me in.
"Rygaard? Is that really you?"
I pause, study her. Nothing. No recognition. "Sorry, what's your name?"
She blushes. "Mindy. Mindy Kaplan. We had English Lit together. I was a cheerleader, too." She rounds the desk and pulls me into a quick hug.
"Oof. Mindy, now I remember. You could do ten flips without breaking a sweat. Always thought that was badass at the games."
She beams. "Thanks! So, you’re buying land?"
"That’s the plan."
"Does that mean you’re back?"
Fucking-A, it does. "Yeah. I’m back." I lean in a little closer. "And I’d appreciate it if you kept that between us."
She presses a finger to her lips. "Sealed. Come on, let’s get you to Bill."
Before we part ways, I promise to grab coffee with her sometime so she can catch me up on all the local gossip.God knows I’ll need it.
Rafe and I haven't spoken in years. Time, and circumstance, has a way of tearing people apart. But if everything goes the way I hope, he’ll be family again soon enough.
After meeting with Bill, I check into the Marriott. Temporary digs until the house closes.
I’ve had my eye on this place for a long time. Even back then, when dreams felt impossible.
Graduated top of my class, degrees in business and architecture. Could’ve gone anywhere. But Texas needs architects like it needs air, and building things with my hands has always been in my blood.
Football paid for school, but it wasn’t the dream.
This was.
I didn’t get to design this first house exactly how I wanted, but that's fine. There’s plenty of room to expand. Plenty of space to build the life I’ve been fighting for.
Still...I don’t know where to start. Rafe’s not an option right now.
Agatha?
Maybe.
But it feels too soon to show my face just yet. For now, I'll stay low. Grab that coffee with Mindy. See what she knows. And when the time’s right?I’ll find my Presley.
And this time, nothing, no one , is taking her away from me.