Chapter 20
Colson was late, and the house felt unusually quiet as I sat alone in the darkened kitchen, staring out at the garden.
Snow flurries danced in the wind, swirling around the trees and bushes like delicate ghosts.
The dim light from the kitchen barely illuminated the scene, casting eerie shadows that seemed to stretch and shrink with each gust of wind.
I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there, lost in my thoughts, when I saw a figure moving toward the guest house.
My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the familiar shape—Logan.
But instead of heading inside as he usually did, he made his way to the French doors that led into the kitchen.
He stopped there, hesitating for a moment before knocking gently.
I rose from my chair, the wooden legs scraping softly against the tile floor. My breath fogged up the glass as I reached for the door handle. I opened the door, letting in the frigid December air that wrapped around us like a cold embrace.
Logan said nothing as he stepped inside, pulling me into a hug. His coat was rough against my cheek, and the scent of winter clung to him. I buried my face in his shoulder, the chill of the evening seeping into my bones as I clung to him, desperate for the comfort only he could offer.
“Logan,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
He tightened his hold on me, his breath warm against my hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
A frustrated sigh escaped me as I pulled back just enough to look up at him. “She was always so mean to me, and you were dating her?” My voice was thick with accusation, the betrayal I felt almost too much to bear.
He looked away, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I tried my best. She was jealous of you.”
“Jealous?” I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “You lied to me, Logan.”
There was so much I needed to tell him—so many fears and doubts that had been building up inside me.
The documents I found, the front page that had shocked me to my core, Colson’s cryptic statements that hinted at something darker, something I couldn’t quite grasp.
The ones showing the demise of my grandfather’s fortune.
All of it. But now, with Simone in the picture, I felt like I’d lost my last confidant, the one person I could trust.
Logan’s expression softened, and he let go of me, taking a step back. The warmth of his embrace faded, leaving me feeling more alone than ever. “We’ll talk on Christmas,” he said, his voice gentle but distant.
“Okay,” I replied softly, the word barely a whisper as he turned and walked away.
I stood there, watching him disappear into the night, the snow swallowing him up until he was just another shadow in the darkness. The cold seeped deeper into me, but it wasn’t the weather that chilled me—it was the realization that I was truly on my own.
I was still staring out the French doors, lost in my thoughts, when I heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind me. Colson's sudden presence made me jump, and I turned just in time to see him enter the kitchen.
“Joey, what are you doing standing here in the dark?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
“Just thinking and watching the snow come down. I’m glad you’re home,” I replied without turning to face him. The snowflakes were mesmerizing, each one unique and fleeting, like the thoughts swirling in my mind.
“I would assume your brother is visiting Simone. His car is here,” Colson said, his tone matter-of-fact.
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.
Logan’s recent promotion had come with a significant raise, and he’d finally splurged on a brand-new BMW sedan, his first car that didn’t come with a history of previous owners.
The sight of it parked outside was a reminder of how much had changed—and how much I hadn’t noticed.
“Colson, how do you feel about my brother dating Simone?” I asked, finally turning to look at him.
Colson’s expression remained calm, almost resigned. “I’ve known about your brother and my daughter for a long time. I put an end to it when they were in high school, but that didn’t stop them from finding each other again.”
I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Your brother, much like you and Easton, would meet in the garden and disappear,” he explained.
The realization hit me like a blow to the body.
I gasped, the memories flooding back—Logan’s late-night walks during the warmer months, his sneaky returns home with the faint scent of expensive perfume clinging to his clothes.
I’d always assumed he was fooling around with some girl from school, never imagining the truth was much closer to home.
“And you accepted that?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.
Colson’s gaze softened, and for a moment, I saw a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “I couldn’t stop her. She needed something to hold onto, and your brother was it.” He hesitated for a few seconds. “Did you know Margaret taught Simone how to cook? She loves your mother.”
I shook my head, speechless. Another secret, another connection between our families that I’d been blind to.
The Ashworths had been entwined with my life in ways I’d never fully understood—Logan dating Simone, my mother treating Simone like a daughter, Easton being my closest friend, Vaughn’s obsession with me, and now Colson, the man I’d fallen for despite everything.
“I didn’t know,” I whispered. “It seems I’ve been in the dark about many things.”
Colson stepped closer, cupping my cheeks in his hands and pressing a tender kiss to my lips. I clung to the lapels of his coat, trying to anchor myself in the warmth of his embrace. Despite everything—his past, the secrets, the lies—I couldn’t stop myself from loving him.
“It will all come to light eventually,” he murmured against my lips.
I wanted to ask him what he meant, to demand the truth about the documents I’d found hidden away, about the cryptic statements he’d made. But I held back, unsure if I was ready for the answers. Instead, I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him.
“I’m tired, Colson. Can we lay in bed together?” I asked, my voice small and weary.
He smiled, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I’m the one who’s old. Shouldn’t I be the one who’s tired?”
I giggled, the sound surprising even to me. “I had a long day. I hate eating dinner alone.”
“Where is Easton?” he asked, his hand warm in mine as he led me toward the stairs.
I shrugged. “I didn’t see him tonight. I would think he’s with Priscilla.”
As we climbed the stairs together, Colson broke the comfortable silence. “I’d like to get an apartment in the city.”
“Why?” I asked, glancing up at him.
“Because my children aren’t here, and winter is coming. It will be easier to stay in Manhattan rather than travel back and forth, especially in the snow,” he explained.
We reached the closet, and as I began to change into something more comfortable, I couldn’t help but think about what life in the city would be like.
There was a time when I’d dreamed of escaping to Manhattan, getting a small apartment where I could finally be free of the Ashworths’ shadow.
But now, I wondered if that dream was still mine—or if it had become something else entirely.
I walked over to the large windows in our bedroom and pulled open the drapes, revealing the sprawling estate outside.
The snow was falling steadily, soft flurries illuminated by the warm glow of the lights that lined the walkways and garden.
The scene was peaceful, almost magical, and for a moment, I allowed myself to simply take it in.
Colson came up behind me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist. His touch was gentle, comforting, and I leaned back into him, letting out a contented sigh.
He planted soft kisses along my neck, his lips brushing against my skin, sending a warm shiver down my spine.
His affection was intoxicating, each kiss a reminder of the connection we shared.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my ear, his breath warm and soothing.
I smiled, feeling my heart swell with emotion.
The love I felt for him was overwhelming, a tide that threatened to sweep me away.
I wanted to tell him, to finally say the words that had been on the tip of my tongue for so long.
I love you. It seemed so simple, yet so monumental.
But as the words formed in my mind, I hesitated, fear creeping in.
What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if my confession changed things between us? I wasn’t sure I could bear it if he didn’t respond the way I hoped.
Colson must have sensed my tension because he turned me around to face him, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s on your mind, Joey?” he asked, his voice tender, his eyes searching mine.
I bit my lip, debating whether to speak the words or keep them locked away for another time. “Just… everything,” I finally said, avoiding his gaze. “Your children, the estate… us.”
He lifted my chin with a finger, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Tell me,” he urged softly, his tone gentle yet insistent.
My heart raced, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper. “About how much has changed… about how much you’ve changed.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “For the better, I hope,” he teased lightly, though his eyes remained serious.
I nodded, feeling the lump in my throat grow. “Yes, for the better. You’ve been so different, Colson. More caring, more… present. And it’s made me realize just how much you mean to me.”
His smile widened, and he pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You mean the world to me too, Joey. It’s been almost thirteen years since Poppy died to find someone who could be as sweet as she was…” he murmured.