Chapter 37 #2
Tuesday is such a unique choice, a name that made no sense when I was in the hospital or even after. Now, I love it even more to know it plays a part in my past story and my present. I start for Loch. “I was born on a Tuesday.”
It’s so tempting to settle in his lap and be a couple without worries and thoughts of how complicated this whole situation is. I’m trying not to care, to just stay in this moment with him.
But right when I reach him, I hear, “What are we talking about?” Ugh. My eyes find Carter in the doorway, making me wonder how long he’s been standing there. I thought I had more time with the people I care about before we’d have the misfortune of his company again.
The lightheartedness of the room’s mood has disappeared with his presence. When no one responds, he says, “Please excuse my fiancée. We’re going for a walk before dinner.”
Loch says, “It’s dark out.”
“She’s a big girl. I think she’ll be okay.”
“I think,” he says, “doesn’t work for me.”
Before this becomes a bigger scene, one that could end up with Loch in jail, I touch his shoulder. “It’s fine. I have some things to say to him as well.”
“Don’t you think daylight would be a better time for that?”
I appreciate him wanting to protect me, but so much seems to lie in Carter’s hands that I don’t want to drag this out. I’m ready to end it tonight and focus on the reason I came here. I say, “I won’t be long.”
I also won’t feed Carter’s ego and make every conversation into a big deal. He’s probably just pissy that we’re having fun without him.
I pass through the grand living room, hearing his steps behind me, and cross into a conservatory I saw earlier on a short tour.
The rich architecture and art in each room makes it easy to understand why this place makes me happy.
Although I never felt like a traditionalist, this house is steeped in history.
There’s so much more to it than just ornate furnishings.
It has a heart that beats and a soul that soothes.
He closes the door behind me and then stands in front of it, giving me no out. “What is wrong with you?” he asks, staring at me.
Does he know? How would he know? He couldn’t. “What do you mean?” I sit on the arm of a sofa and stare at him.
“What are you trying to do? Ruin everything? I keep my fucks hidden from view, but you decide to parade yours around? That’s not the deal we made, Céline.
” I really dislike how he says my name like it resides in the gutter beneath him.
Crossing the room, he stands in front of a large pane of glass.
It’s too dark to see outside, so I’m thinking he’s staring at his reflection. How very Carter of him.
“Refresh my memory on this arrangement.”
He side-eyes me over his shoulder. “Memory lapse, huh?”
“I’ve forgotten the details.”
“Obviously.” His eyes return to the window. “Céline, you know we didn’t begin this with love at the forefront, but we always got along well enough to stick it out. It only made sense considering the families we come from.”
“So we keep doing this for the money? That’s it?” I look down disappointed in myself for being so shallow before. “To keep it for ourselves?”
This time he turns back, perplexity shaping his face with tight lips and matching eyes. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine. Why?”
He stares at me for a good long time, making me more uncomfortable than I usually am in his presence. Searching my eyes, he asks, “What were you doing in New York?”
I get whiplash from the sudden change in conversation. But then Allison’s words come back to me, “He loves playing mental games . . .” He just took his turn. It’s time to make my own move. “How did you know I was in New York?”
A chuckle on the lighter side escapes him, and he briefly rubs his temple. The actions don’t match, keeping me on guard with him. “If it was a secret, blame Allison. You know she can’t keep her mouth shut.”
I laugh to humor him but circle back again. “If we were married, we’d get everything eventually. That’s our motives?”
“Motives?” He scoffs. “Interesting choice of words. We used to say goals. The combination of wealth would be immense.”
“Not everything is about money. Love, for instance.”
With his hands cupped before him in some kind of imploring anger, he says, “I don’t know why you’re acting so different. I’m trying to help you.”
“What do you want from me, Carter? Surely, it’s not just a marriage arrangement for wealth.”
Dropping his hands to his sides, he comes closer. “I’ve tried to protect you, to give you a way out.”
“A way out of what? Happiness?”
He closes his eyes and scrubs his fingers over his forehead. When he looks at me again, he asks, “Why must you always fight me every step of the way? We could have a good life together, Céline.”
“I’m in love with Loch.” I don’t move, not an inch. What more can I say or do anyway? The ball is in his court.
“You’re willing to risk everything . . . for him?”
I take a calming breath, desperate to keep things controlled when he could so easily fly off the handle over this. “Don’t you want to be with someone you love?”
“I love you. You used to love me, too.” I still wonder, not convinced because he tells me so. The emotion has escaped his tone as well. It’s too calculated. “I think we’ve done enough damage tonight. Maybe things will look better tomorrow.”
“I won’t stop loving Loch overnight. I don’t think I ever could. He means too much to me.”
His gaze travels between my eyes as if he’ll find the lie he needs to justify his actions. The thing is, he’ll find it because the truth is more powerful than his threats.
“More than a half billion dollars means to you?”
“Yes.” There’s no doubt in my mind that what I have with Loch is more valuable.
Nodding, he takes a deep inhale through his nose and then slowly exhales.
“You’re a fool.” He takes another pregnant pause, staring at me like he’s looking at a stranger he doesn’t want to meet.
“If we’re no longer going to be together, then we need to figure out what to tell people. Maybe put out a joint statement?”
“Seems excessive.”
“It’s as if you’ve forgotten who you are.”
“Maybe. But I’ve finally discovered who I want to be.”
A smile appears as his shoulders ease from the weight of the burden of our relationship lifting from his sharp features.
“Hey, we should go on one last ride tomorrow. Like old times? You always did love riding horses early in the morning before the fog lifted. We can go to the lake like we used to. It’s not been cold enough to freeze over. ”
I ride horses?
Continuing, he starts for the door, “I’ll draft that statement up to end speculation and bring it with me in the morning. We can post it by lunch.”
So this is how things are done these days? Public joint statements for social media? “Sounds good, but what happens after that?”
“We go our separate ways.”