Chapter 48
Chapter
Forty-Eight
HUGH
J oseph, my estate manager, stands by the fireplace, his clipboard clutched tight, his face creased with concern, while a firefighter, his yellow jacket streaked with soot, gestures toward a diagram of Lauren’s cottage, its charred outline a grim sketch on the page.
They’re talking about wiring, a faulty circuit from the rushed renovations, a spark that might’ve ignited the blaze, but their words blur, their assurances that “it’ll take more time, more inspection” to pinpoint the cause grates on my nerves.
It is reasonable, they’re reasonable, but I’m so exhausted that everything greatly irritates me.
I won’t be able to rest. Not until I have some sort of answer about how this happened.
If it is the fault of my building crew, then I plan to take full responsibility.
Hell, I’m taking full responsibility no matter what.
Lauren is my girl, my responsibility now.
I’ll just get rid of these two and go find Lauren and assure her that she has absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ll sort everything out.
The door swings open, and I turn, my heart lurching at the sight of Lauren. Her face is pale, her eyes red-rimmed, her blonde hair tangled, and still carrying the hospital’s sterile scent.
She’s here, in my space, but something’s wrong—her shoulders are rigid, her gaze sharp, cutting through me like a blade.
“Could you guys please leave us? I’ll come meet you outside,” I tell Joseph and the firefighter, my voice low and strained.
They nod and leave after gathering their papers.
The thudding of their boots dies when the door clicks shut, sealing us in the room, alone.
I move toward her, my arms aching to hold her, to pull her close like I did on the lawn.
It will give me strength, I am sure. But she surprises me.
Instead of reaching for me like I have become accustomed to, she flinches and steps back, her right palm raised.
There is now effectively a wall between us, and I don’t understand why.
“Please don’t touch me.” Her voice is cold and bitter.
I freeze. Then my hands fall back to my sides. My chest tightens because just hours ago in the hospital, she’d clung to me, thanked me, and now she’s looking at me like I’m a stranger, like she hates me.
“Lauren, what’s wrong?” I ask, my voice rough, confusion swirling with hurt, because I don’t understand.
Her eyes narrow, blazing with anger. She steps closer, her voice low, trembling but venomous. “Were you responsible for this fire, Hugh?”
Each word feels like a dagger.
Stunned, I stare at her in amazement. For a mad second, I even think she’s joking. She has a cruel sense of humor. That’s how preposterous her question seems to me. Then I see that her face is hard, her lips tight, and I realize she means it, believes it.
My mouth opens, but no words come; my mind is reeling because why would she think this?
Why would she think I’d destroy her cottage, her dreams, after everything?
I’m offended, hurt, my heart pounding, because I’ve poured money, time, care into her home, into her, and she’s accusing me of burning it all down.
“Why would you—how could you even think I’d do that to you?”
She doesn’t back down, her eyes flashing, her voice rising, cutting through the room’s stillness. “Don’t lie to me, Hugh. You need to tell me the truth—were you behind it?”
She pauses, her breath hitching, and then the words spill, fast and furious, each one a wound.
“The money doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?
Nor the cottage, just the land. That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it?
You did this so I couldn’t rebuild, so I’d have no choice but to sell it to you.
That’s why you were so nice, so helpful, wasn’t it?
It was all a plan, a game, to get what you want?
Just let me know the truth. That’s all I’m asking.
After all, I can’t do anything to hurt you in retaliation.
I can’t get the house back. I’ll have no choice but to sell the land to you to even put food on my table.
You won, so just tell me, alright. You owe me that, at least.”
I listen, my stomach twisting, because I can’t believe these words are coming from her, can’t believe she thinks I’m capable of this. I’m hurt, deeply, the kind of hurt that steals your breath, that makes your chest ache.
“Lauren, none of that is true,” I say, my voice low, but to my ears they sound wooden and without conviction.
Probably, because I’m too shocked. I try again.
“I swear, I didn’t do this. I don’t need your land that badly—God, I’d never hurt you, never put your life at risk, never burn your house to get anything. ”
I step closer, my hands open, begging her to believe me, to trust the man who ran into flames for her, who held her in the hospital, who’s falling for her in ways he can’t control.
But I can see clearly that she’s not ready to listen. Her eyes blaze with anger and fury, and I wonder what has turned her this insane.
“I don’t believe you,” she screams, filling the room with her pain.
“I was warned about you. That you’re evil.
That you’re a monster. And still I trusted you, I almost believed you cared.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
Getting your own workers to renovate the cottage was a brilliant way to ensure that this fire happened, wasn’t it?
Admit it, all this… desperation to find out what went wrong is just an act, isn’t it?
Isn’t it? You have so much and you can’t even bear for me to have Sweetbriar Cottage, the only place I have ever owned or probably ever will. You’re pathetic, you know that?”
Her words turn me cold. Cold, furious and silent. Me, pathetic? How did things come to this? I reach out a hand. I don’t know why, perhaps, one final attempt to recover a lost dream.
“Don’t touch me! I detest you!” she yells, and the venom in her voice and the hatred in her eyes bring me to my senses.
She whirls away suddenly, her shoulders hunched, and flees from me.
I can’t believe it. It all happened so fast it feels like a hallucination.
But the door slamming behind her and bitter silence in the room is an undeniable confirmation.
I stand in the middle of the room in shock, my breath shallow, my hands fisting, and my eyes burning with tears I won’t let fall, because she’s wrong.
She’s decided I’m the villain, but I’m not.