Chapter Twenty-Seven
D anni shoved the back door open with her shoulder, dropping the stack of empty sacks by the door, and then trying to take her boots off without touching them with her hands. It was a delicate job, and she had to lean back against the door to accomplish it.
She sniffed, looking for a clue as to what might be for dinner.
The scent of roasted vegetables and something buttery lingered in the air, but that was the remnants of last night’s dinner.
It had been a good dinner. A good night.
They’d talked, they’d laughed, and then they’d fallen into bed and Danni thought that that was what marriage was supposed to be about.
They might have started out faking it, but they were rapidly becoming pros, at least in Danni’s opinion.
But there was no new smell in the air, no beef roasting, no saucepan boiling, nothing.
Which was fine, obviously. It wasn’t like she expected Eleanor to cook every night or anything.
It was just… a little off. She cocked her head, seeing the shadow of something unfamiliar in the front hall.
Peering closer, she saw suitcases. Eleanor’s suitcases.
Her heart kicked up an uneasy beat.
“Eleanor?”
There was no answer .
Danni stepped forward, scanning the kitchen, the couch. The stove was unlit. The book that Eleanor had been reading was missing from the arm of the couch. There were no planners sitting on the kitchen table. A growing sense of wrongness slithered up Danni’s spine.
Then there were footsteps on the stairs, and Eleanor appeared, perfectly put together as always. She was in soft gray trousers, a starched white shirt, not a hair out of place. Except something else was out of place, just Danni couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
There was no smile, no sarcastic remark.
Instead, Eleanor gripped her handbag closer to her side and stared down at the ground as though it might have some answers to some very serious questions.
Danni blew out a breath. “Um, what’s with the bags?”
Now Eleanor did finally look at her, eyes deep green and unreadable. “I’m moving back to the house.”
The words came out crisp and clean with no hesitation, nothing but meaning, like they’d been rehearsed. No emotion even. Just words. Just there, spinning around the room. Danni opened her mouth, then shut it again. She blinked, shook her head slightly. “Wait… what?”
Eleanor held her bag closer to her body. “The roof’s finished on the west wing. Samson says I can move back in safely. So I’m going.”
Danni tried to process this, tried to find a way to make sense of it, but every explanation she landed on didn’t quite fit. “So… what about dinner?” she asked, grasping onto the smallest, safest thing she could think of. “Shall I make something?”
Eleanor exhaled sharply through her nose, something that wasn’t quite a laugh but wasn’t far from it either. “I won’t be here for dinner, Danni.”
Danni shifted her feet, the tiles cold through her socks. “Right, yes, obviously. Sorry. But, um, but you’ll be back, yeah?” Because it was unthinkable that she wouldn’t be. It was unthinkable that this was happening right now .
There was silence. Just long enough for Danni to feel a deep, sinking certainty in her stomach.
“No,” Eleanor said finally. She looked away. “No, I won’t.”
It took a second for this to land. “Right.” Danni huffed out a small laugh. “Okay, is this…?” She gestured vaguely. “Is this a joke? Or did I do something? Is this about something I did? The boots again? By the door? Because I can—”
“It’s not you, Danni,” Eleanor cut her off.
“Then what is it?” Danni asked, confusion in her voice.
Eleanor looked at her again. “I was never meant to stay. I never intended to stay.”
Danni flinched. The words cut right through her, sharp and precise. She shook her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “No, no, of course, not at the beginning. But then... But we…” She took a breath, it was shaky, too shaky. “But now it’s different. This is bollocks. We’re happy, we’re…”
She could see Eleanor’s fingers tightening around the strap of her bag, the knuckles turning white. “That was never the point of this,” she said. “The two things should never have become intertwined.”
Danni knew what she meant. Knew that she meant that the feelings and the business arrangement should have been kept separate.
But that didn’t mean that this had to happen, did it?
She took a slow step forward, something raw and bloody rising in her chest. “So what? That’s it?
You just separate the feelings out and go on back to your house like none of this happened? ”
There was a moment when she thought that Eleanor was going to say something else, when her expression changed just a little. But then she shook her head. “That’s exactly what’s happening,” she said.
“You don’t get to decide all of that all on your own,” Danni said, clenching her fists at her side, feeling the anger burning up inside her, wanting to hit something or kick something.
Not Eleanor, but something. The couch, the table, anything, anything to let out some of this anger that was threatening to bubble over .
“I do, actually,” Eleanor said, looking away.
And there was something about that quiet certainty that broke something in Danni.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, raking a hand through her hair.
“Un-fucking-believable. You... what? You just get bored of slumming it? Bored of having a bit of rough? Want to go back to your old, rich life, do you? Or is this one of those things where the emotions all got too much for your stiff upper lip? You need to push people away before they get too close and discover that you’re actually human beneath all that aristocratic bullshit? ”
Eleanor inhaled sharply, but didn’t say anything. It was like she was standing there knowing that she deserved the words, knowing that she deserved to be punished.
Danni let out a breath. “You’ll miss me,” she said, as much to herself as to Eleanor. “You’ll miss all of this. Just you wait and see. You think it’s all high ceilings and high tea. But you’ll miss this, Princess. You’ll miss me.”
Again, she almost thought that Eleanor was going to break, going to say something. But after an instant, Eleanor stood up taller, a cool, distant expression passing across her face. “Let’s not make this dramatic.”
“Yeah, God forbid that something in your life actually means something. Other than your damn house, of course.”
A flicker of something crossed Eleanor’s face, but it was gone before Danni could place it. Instead, Eleanor straightened her shoulders, as poised as ever. “I’ll set up a standing order for the farm. Monthly payments into your account.”
Danni recoiled. “What?”
“That was the deal, wasn’t it? You needed money, I needed marriage. I’m not backing out of our agreement. You’ll have what you need for the farm.”
It felt like being punched, like a fist to her stomach. “You think that’s what this is?” Danni said, her voice raw. “You really believe that’s all this was?”
Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I think it’s best that we remember why we did all this in the first place. ”
Danni could only stare at her, could only look at the careful mask that Eleanor had put back into place.
She knew that she’d made Eleanor take that mask off once, was sure of it.
She didn’t know why it was back, and she didn’t know how to remove it again.
“Fine,” she said, giving up. “Fine. You want to go, then go. I’m not stopping you. ”
For a fraction of a second, Eleanor hesitated. Just a fraction. A tiny sliver of time when things could have changed, where this could all have ended differently. Then she turned away, picking up her bags, and opening the front door.
Danni didn’t stop her.
She listened as Eleanor’s footsteps receded, as the front door clicked shut behind her, as the engine of the little sports car roared to life. Then she just stood there, staring at nothing, fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles ached.
What the hell had just happened? What had changed? How had they gone from building something to suddenly there being nothing there? It didn’t make sense. Except that Eleanor was so obviously hiding something.
She’d come to her senses, Danni thought. Once she was alone in that big, empty house, she’d realize what she’d done. She’d miss waking up together. She’d miss their stupid fights, the banter, the way they made up afterwards. She’d miss it all. She’d—
A knock at the door startled her.
She blinked, shaking herself, before realizing that this could be Eleanor. Maybe she’d come to her senses already, maybe she’d changed her mind, turned the car around, come back here to say that she’d been afraid, been stupid, been…
Danni yanked the door open, but Eleanor was not standing there.
A man in a motorcycle helmet and leather jacket was holding out a large buff-colored envelope. “Delivery for Danielle Franks.”
Danni frowned, taking it. “What is it?”
The man shrugged. “Legal documents. Sign here.”
She signed, her hand trembled, her pulse pounding in her ears.
When she closed the door, her fingers fumbled with the envelope, tearing it before she slid the papers free, crisp and cold between her fingers.
At first, she took nothing in.
Then she read again.
Only then did her stomach knot and her breath stop. Only then did she really understand.
Eleanor wasn’t just moving home. She wasn’t taking some space. She wasn’t just freaked out because it had all got serious. No.
Eleanor wanted a divorce.
It was over.
Danni sank onto the bottom stair, staring blankly at the words on the page. She’d been wrong. Eleanor wasn’t coming back. Not ever.