Chapter 37
Tuesday
“No fucking way will I let that happen.” Loch’s eyes have darkened, his hold on me tightening. I still don’t hold an ounce of fear with him. This man would protect me to the ends of the earth and beyond.
A tear slips from my eye, and I look down to wipe it away.
I’m so frustrated because I’m heading to France with the man I love.
I deserve to enjoy it. I’m about to see my parents, people I know love and care about me.
And hopefully, this trip will lead to my memory returning or at least help me make sense of everything.
I should be happy . . .
But as soon as Loch got up from his seat, Carter dropped the bomb I knew he’d been waiting to detonate since I showed up at the house. “You will lose everything, Céline. Dump the loser and get back on board with our arrangement.”
What arrangement?
I wanted to handle him myself, never wanting to worry Loch.
But this is getting out of hand so quickly.
Loch sits down because if he doesn’t, he’ll be bolting out the door to find Carter.
And if death had a stare, he’s mastered it.
This isn’t the slick attorney skilled at hiding his emotions.
No, this is a man whose world has been threatened.
“Tell me exactly what he said, Tuesday.”
“Carter said he wanted to make it official while we’re here. That I have to marry him or else.”
Caught after the raw pleasure I was seeking and the temporary escape Loch afforded me, I feel exposed in the aftermath of what we just did. I slip my pants back on, hating that Carter stole our moment and that he’s still in my head, ruining each and every one after.
Loch pulls me close, holding me around the top of my legs, and asks, “Or else what?” The warmth of his eyes lit with the desire we shared while anger tinges the outer edges.
I’m feeling the same, caught between warring emotions.
“He didn’t say, but it was assumed that I already knew.
I just wish I could remember.” It’s absurd to walk a line between two lives but have solid footing only on one side.
“I hate this. I hate feeling trapped by his threats. Are they empty, or does he really have something on me?”
Standing up, he cups my face. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not marrying him.”
“I’m not marrying him. Whatever it is he has over me, I’ll find a way out.”
“We will. Together.”
“He still thinks I’m Céline and cheating on him. I can tell that makes him anxious about everything working out. What do I do?”
“Watch your back and your front.” His hands slide to my shoulders, and he lightly massages. “If he’ll threaten you into marriage, he’s not above hurting you in other ways.”
I embrace him again, breathing him in, his strength and belief in me. “I don’t think he’d hurt me. He could have done it already if that’s what he intended.”
With his chin resting on my head, he nods. “Why do you think marriage is his end goal?”
I’ve had so many thoughts over the past twenty-four hours about this, but the one I keep coming back to is the most obvious, if not the simplest. “I don’t think I’m anything more than comfortable. He’s used to me.”
The pilot comes over the intercom, telling us to take our seats and buckle in. “It’s about to get bumpy.”
Little did we know, it already had.
Hidden behind the tall cypress lining the road, the chateau comes into view surrounded by sleeping olive groves lining the hills and fields. Even though it’s winter, the estate is more breathtaking than the photo could ever show.
I bet it’s even more incredible in fall when the olives are ripe with leaves and fruit hanging from the branches. I don’t know anything about olives, so how do I know that? Hope blooms inside me as I realize that’s a memory coming back, and we haven’t even been dropped off yet.
We reach the chateau and climb out. The front door swings open while we unload the suitcases.
A woman I recognize as an older version of myself says, “Welcome.” My heart stops still in my chest, knowing that’s her.
That’s my mom. The moment she lays eyes on me, she hurries toward me with arms wide open and wraps me in her embrace. “Céline, my beautiful daughter.”
My throat thickens as my body caves to her. I’m not sure if it’s her perfume or the comfort of the hug, but she’s so familiar that I close my eyes to take in every second I share with her.
I have no idea why I expected a French accent, and there are tinges of one heard, like when you spend too much time someplace and adapt to the surroundings.
She leans back and lifts my chin. “How are you?”
My heart beats harder as my eyes water. I want to tell her everything and wish I could be honest and not lie because of Carter. I raise my chin. I have a feeling it’s something she taught me. “I’m happy to see you.” So happy.
“I’m happy to see you, too, darling.” She spies Allison and moves to kiss each of her cheeks like an old friend.
“So good to see you, dear.” I see the moment her eyes find Loch .
. . and then Carter. She fails to hide the distinctive difference between smiling and not smiling, but she’s quick to right her expression.
“This is my friend,” I say, “Loch Westcott.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Westcott. I’m Sofie Schroder.” When she lifts to give her customary greeting, he meets her halfway. “Will you be staying with us as well?”
The brown of his eyes is brighter under the midday winter’s sun, an amber coloring them when he replies, “I will. Thank you for having me.”
She’s as charming as I imagined, but I can’t wait to see if it carries when she greets Carter. Where does he stand in my parents’ eyes?
My mom says, “Hello,” and then turns and starts for the door.
That’s it. I approve. He won’t win with any of us, especially when we stand together.
I have hope that whatever he’s holding over me can be overcome, especially here where he’ll receive no sympathy.
She adds, “We should get out of the cold air.”
When Carter passes me, effectively cutting me off from walking with my mom, he leans toward my ear, and whispers, “It’s time to play your part.” He leaves me standing on the steps, struck by how bold he’s become about his demands. I’m not sure what role I’m supposed to play, so the laugh’s on him.
“Hey!” Allison gripes when he bumps her out of his way to get inside. “Asshole,” she mutters, leaving space behind him before she continues up the steps.
I linger behind, hoping to steal a free moment with Loch before we go inside and continue this charade. Loch takes my bag from me just as a man comes around and tells us he’ll take care of the suitcases.
I’m fired up from that encounter with Carter. Patting Loch on the chest, I whisper, “No marriage is ever going to take place.”
“No marriage ever?”
His tone catches me off guard. Not sure how he manages to sound shocked, firm, and worried all at the same time, but he does.
It’s his expression, though—parted lips that make me want to kiss him, lids narrowed, and those little lines at the sides of his eyes that have me reaching up to soothe them—that has me craving his closeness.
Then I realize how that sounded. “Not ever. Just not to him.”
With Loch, warnings of rushing into marriage would be thrown out the window. I’d marry Loch in a heartbeat. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to be with him forever. “I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you, too.” His words cover me, warming me inside and out.
“There appears,” my mother starts, causing us to jump apart like teenagers caught making out, “to be a few things to discuss.”
My cheeks heat, and I glance at Loch. When my gaze returns to her, I grin, unable to stop myself as happiness from having both in my life runs through me. I hurry up the steps, taking her by the hands in my excitement. “There’s so much I want to share with you.”
“I can’t wait.” Turning to Loch, she asks, “Are you the reason my daughter’s glowing?”
My heart skips a beat when I hear him reply, “I sure hope so.”
“I’ll never forget that day,” my mom says, leaning against my dad with a glass of wine in her hand. “All plans flew out the window when it came to your birth. You even arrived three days early. I was in the middle of my regular weekly hair appointment when my water broke.”
A round of laughter lightens the dark-paneled room. I’m already feeling the best I have since leaving Manhattan. It’s been a whirlwind twenty-four hours with so many highs and lows. I needed this time with my friend, Loch, and my parents.
After arriving, I finally reunited with my dad. He choked up when he saw me like my mom, which brought tears to my eyes. Their love extends beyond hugs but is felt even now in the downtime.
My grandfather is a harder nut to crack. We hugged, but after, he was staring into my eyes as if he can tell something has changed. Everything has changed, but I’ll continue to protect my secrets—for now.
He went to bed early but said he’d like to spend some time together. I would, too.
Sitting near my dad, Loch leans back in a leather chair. He’s too far for my liking since I choose to warm up by the fire. With his eyes set on mine, he asks, “What day of the week was she born?”
“Tuesday. I had my hair appointments at ten in the morning for about two years.”
My dad adds, “She was always a little firecracker, keeping us on our feet.”
“I can believe that.” Loch chuckles. “Tuesday.”
I look up, our eyes finding each other’s again. “Yes?”
His grin widens. “Isn’t it interesting that you were born on a Tuesday? Have any stories to share, Dane?”
“She’d kill me,” my dad replies. Looking at me, he says, “I like this guy.”
So caught up in their reminiscence that I didn’t catch that huge detail until Loch spells it out for me. I stand in declaration. “I was born on a Tuesday.”
Allison says, “That explains some things.”