Chapter 7 #2
The sense of her own isolation and loneliness suddenly swept through her like a cold wind. Why had she chosen to come to a place that was so far away from absolutely everything? And yet even back in New York, she hadn’t had friends to call on in a moment of need like this.
She had been, Grace reflected resignedly, as isolated and alone there as she was here.
Maybe even more so, because when you were surrounded by people, none of whom would lift a finger to help you, you felt even lonelier.
They’d all been Brad’s friends first, and they’d all believed him when he’d sent a million bots on the internet to trash her reputation.
She slipped on her underwear and then the t-shirt and sweatpants, both of which she guessed belonged to Noah and dwarfed her much smaller frame.
Even with the drawstring pulled as tightly as it would go, the sweatpants were in danger of sliding off her hips.
Holding the waistband bunched in one hand, she went in search of her son.
The hallway outside the room she’d been in was paneled in dark wood and seemed as gloomy as she suspected the rest of the house was, filled as it was with heavy, dark furniture and dusty drapes.
The whole place felt like a mausoleum, she reflected as she peeked past the double doors of the next room that had been left ajar.
This room at least was a little cozier, with a fire blazing in the hearth, and two leather club chairs pulled up next to the blaze.
A small table in between them had a chessboard on it with delicately carved pieces of ivory and jade, and Jacob was standing in front of it, studying the board with lovable concentration.
Chess was a passion of his that Grace wished she could share, but she barely knew how to play.
“Hey, buddy,” she said softly, and Jacob turned and then ran toward her, throwing his arms around her waist with so much vigor that Grace rocked back and pain flashed through her head.
“Hey, hey.” She hugged him to her, sliding her fingers through his hair.
“It’s okay. We’re okay. You’ve been playing chess?
” She smiled down at him as he blinked up at her silently, making her heart ache with both regret and love. Even now he stayed silent.
“He certainly has.” Noah rose from behind his desk, and Grace tensed, because she hadn’t even seen him when she’d come into the room. “I’d offer to play against him, but I think he’d beat me.”
“He loves chess. He learned it at school just this last year and took to it right away.” She smiled down at Jacob as he peeled his arms from her waist and went back to the board.
“I’ve sent for soup and sandwiches,” Noah told her. “I thought you might be hungry.”
Sent for? So he had staff. Of course he did, living in a place like this.
Grace knew she shouldn’t be surprised, much less disappointed.
She’d had staff for all twelve years of her marriage, and it had been such a relief to escape their oppressive presence.
She never wanted to live in that kind of world again, where people waited on you, where entitlement was something you wore like a second skin.
“That’s very kind,” she murmured, turning away from him to stretch her hands toward the flames.
“And I’ve also sent for a doctor,” Noah continued. “As I said before, that was a nasty knock to your head. I think you should get it checked out, in case you have a concussion.”
“I don’t—” Grace began to protest, but Noah shook his head.
“You were fully unconscious for at least several minutes,” he told her. “And then seriously out of it for about half an hour. I don’t know if you remember anything—”
“A little,” Grace mumbled. She remembered him tugging her jeans down her hips.
“Well, it’s certainly something that needs to be checked out,” he said firmly.
Grace opened her mouth to protest again, then realized she couldn’t. Judging by the pain still flashing through her temples, not to mention the length of time she was unconscious, it made sense to see a doctor. “Thank you,” she said again. “I’ll pay whatever’s necessary, of course.”
“There’s no need, I assure you.”
“Still,” she insisted, letting a hint of steel creep into her voice. She turned back to face him, saw him eyeing her with something like bemusement.
“If you insist,” he replied after a moment, inclining his head.
“I do,” Grace replied, and again she felt that strangely taut silence stretch between them and wondered if it was her fault.
Maybe she was being unreasonably antagonistic, simply because he was rich and good-looking and had clearly lived a life of unimaginable privilege…
just as Brad had. That didn’t make the two men anything alike, she acknowledged, and Noah Lawrence was still a stranger to her.
She didn’t know him, so how could she judge him?
Grace took a breath and let it out slowly. “But thank you,” she said again, hoping she didn’t sound ungracious. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. For us.” She nodded toward Jacob, still intent on his game.
“I’m just glad I happened to see you, down on that rock. It was smart, to use your flashlight.”
“Desperate, really,” she replied as regret lanced through her again. She still couldn’t believe—or forgive—how unbelievably foolhardy she’d been. She really should have known better.
“Well, they say necessity was the mother of invention,” Noah quipped. “I suppose you could draw the same connection between desperation and intelligence.”
A knock sounded on the door, and he smiled, the curve of his mouth transforming his austere expression, lightening his eyes and making him even more handsome, if such a thing were possible. Grace looked away quickly.
“Ah, that will be Isaiah, with the food,” he said, and went to open the door.