Chapter Sixteen
ELLY
THE HOUSE is finally quiet.
And cold. The fireplaces keep it mostly warm, but not central heating warm.
Yesterday, extra blankets were put on the beds, and everyone is dressing in extra layers inside.
Marley said after the last ice storm, which knocked out all the power for more than a week, they installed gas water heaters and every room in the house has an oil lamp.
My stomach has been rumbling in protest the past hour as I wait for everyone to finish their breakfast and go outside. Even the smell of bacon and eggs hanging heavily in the air isn't strong enough to pull me into the kitchen with Gray and Marley together.
I still can’t believe she walked in at just that moment.
What was that about anyway? The tingles from his rough thumb moving across my bottom lip stayed with me for hours. Not to mention how wet I was when I crawled into bed.
I tossed and turned until the wee hours of the morning because I was so turned on I needed release. Seeing his face when I closed my eyes and imagining it was his hand between my legs instead of mine had my core pulsing within minutes.
Is it possible to feel worse about myself? Yes. My thoughts keep flip-flopping when I think about what my father expects me to do, for the company. Then I think about this family and the love that is woven into every fiber of this house.
Pulling the blankets up around my chin, I stare at the ceiling and recall when I watched the old TV shows as a kid, I craved the family and love that I would see.
In an effort to spare my inner child and push down the hurt every time my father rejected me, whether consciously or not, I convinced myself a long time ago it was just an illusion, something that only exists in the made-up TV world.
That was before I got stuck here. That happy little lie I told myself all those years is just that, a lie.
It’s not made up.
I’ve seen the warmth and harmony of a true, caring family these past couple of days. It’s easy to see they would do anything for each other. Gray’s protectiveness of his family is fierce - something I’ve always wished for.
After I cleaned myself up yesterday, I spent the day inside with Sloane and Hallie and saw a level of maternal love I've never experienced. And neither of them are mothers, well, Sloane will be soon, but their focus was fully on making sure everyone is taken care of whether it’s through cooking, laundry, or just having a warm, clean home.
They are part of a system with its own heartbeat.
Each part of that system has a job, and they understand the importance of their part in the happiness and survival of their family and life.
And it's enough for them, they don't need approval from anyone else to be completely happy with who they are. They are family.
Sloane laughed when I told her about my encounter with Kinley and then I laughed when she told me she and Kinley had exchanged words and then fought in the very kitchen we were standing in. With hot cocoa and pancake batter all over them, they had to be pulled apart by Mr. Harlow and Mason.
The burn in my throat when I compare my life growing up to the wholesome comradery of the life this family makes is just a reminder of what I became by taking this assignment. I’m like my father, or even worse, like Harris.
Letting my mind drift, I think about Harris’ pillow talk, the gentle caresses, and that he got to see every part of me while playing me like a marionette, my jaw clenches so hard from the humiliation I think it might break off. How could I be so stupid?
I always felt a sharp edge to his energy, something that made me a little uncomfortable, but his actions didn't reflect that. It was all an act. I didn't listen to my gut, and I will regret that for the rest of my life.
He started flirting with me the summer before my senior year in college while I was an intern at my father’s company. He would stop in and check on me, take me to lunch, and listen attentively to my musings about classes and college life.
After I fell for his bullshit and he got me in bed, he encouraged me to talk about my family life, empathizing and saying all the right things while asking questions about my father I didn’t think twice about answering.
At my college graduation, I searched the stands for him. My father was too busy with work and my mother too drunk, I assumed. I remember the soul-crushing feeling of no one being there to see me graduate.
For some men, the long game is simple as long as they keep their eye on the prize at the end. I was just part of the game to get him closer to my father. After graduation, the plan was for me to start work for my father’s company immediately. That was when he told me we needed some space.
It took a few weeks of attempting to talk to him but only getting the brush-off before I put all the pieces together. After starting work at my father’s business, I was able to see the easy way he was with my father because of all the time he spent with me learning about my father.
He used me.
Just like my father uses everyone.
They reduced me to a ridiculous girl who thought happily ever after could be possible. My father by not showing me what genuine love is, and Harris for taking advantage of that.
I spent so much time telling myself my life didn’t have to be anything like my parent’s marriage, that they are the exception. I forgot to be cautious of letting myself be drawn in by a man who is just like my father.
And now I’m trying to put myself on the same level as the unfeeling piss ants who have done nothing but make me question my value.
What am I doing here?
Do I really want a seat at my father’s table if this is the lengths I have to go to? And why am I competing with a man I know is a baser form of human to get it?
Is this what I want?
No. It's not.
I have to tell my father I can't do this, but I also want to protect this family. I don't want Harris coming here to harass them, they don't deserve that. I'll tell him they are refusing every offer I throw at them and, somehow, try to keep him from sending anyone else to try harder.
Is that even possible?
Throwing the covers off, I take a deep breath and blow out my cheeks when I let it out. I'll see if I can discreetly borrow someone’s phone.
Marley told me to help myself to Breanna's clothes since she is a little closer to my size and I cross the mostly teal and cream-colored room to the closet.
As I'm looking at some of the warmer clothes, I see a shoebox hidden behind a suitcase that’s stuffed in the back of the closet.
Curiosity has me looking over my shoulder to make sure the bedroom door is closed before I cross the line into snooping.
It's a large box, the size that would fit a pair of boots, and I flip the top back. There is an array of things inside, pictures, carved wood animals, knick-knacks, some jewelry, bottle tops, and other miscellaneous things that would only mean something to the person who kept them.
The picture on top of the small stack is of a young couple, the girl looks to be high school age and the boy looks like he may be early twenties.
It's a selfie taken by the guy, he looks Native American, and his long black hair is falling over one shoulder as he tilts his head to lean on hers.
She has long dark blond hair that falls in big waves and curls and her eyes are the same deep blue as Marley's and Mason's.
Her head is leaning toward his and the smile on her face could only be described as one of a girl in love. Her arms are around his neck, her fingers laced together on his shoulder. This must be Breanna.
Flipping the picture over, I hope to find some type of description but it's blank.
I flip through the other pictures, some of just him and some of them together.
It's obvious she loved him deeply as I see them together in different stages of their lives, in one picture she looks like she could be thirteen.
It's plain they grew up on the ranch together, I can see the transformation in both of them.
Her curves becoming softer and more pronounced and his body going from a gangly teenager to a man with broad shoulders and an impressive six pack, based on the number of pictures of him working outside without a shirt.
A few pictures of him kissing her cheek make me smile, the glow of happiness on her round face is something I’m envious of. How beautiful would it be to feel that kind of love and affection?
In some pictures there is a puppy that looks like a wolf, others show the wolf at different sizes. It's a big flippin' wolf. Squinting my eyes to see better, there is a crow also, sometimes it's standing next to him and sometimes it's in the background. He must be an animal lover.
Smiling at the closeness between them, I set the pictures back in the box. My eye catches on a folded piece of paper that was wadded up at one point and then smoothed back out, as I unfold it, I see it was also ripped into several pieces before being taped back together.
Feeling a little guilty for trespassing into her private life, I scan over the message.
The handwriting is small and blocky and the love that’s pouring from his words is heartbreaking as he explains why he has to leave.
I quickly fold the paper back up when I get to the part where he begs her to forgive him, not wanting to intrude on their private moment anymore.
I shut the lid on the box and put it back where I found it.