CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – THOMAS
Colour me surprised.
Those were not words I ever expected to hear out of the great, confident Sylvie Harding’s mouth.
“That’s not what I was expecting you to say,” I admitted quietly.
She sighed, and her eyes fluttered shut once more.
Not going to fall asleep, my arse.
I needed to move her. Tell her to get up and I’d show her back to her room for the night.
There was only one problem: I was a selfish bastard.
A selfish, greedy bastard who wanted to sit here and listen to her sleepy truths. I wanted to hear more of the things she kept locked away in her heart and didn’t share with anyone else.
I knew there was no way she’d ever admit to someone that she was jealous of Hazel, but here she was, speaking honestly and openly with me.
“Why wouldn’t I be jealous of her?” she murmured. “She’s younger than me, and she really does have everything. A solid career, her family around her, and she’s getting married to someone who loves her more than anything.”
Ah.
I understood.
This beautiful, confident, successful woman lying on my sofa was lonely.
And for her, it wasn’t a case of ‘always the bridesmaid, never the bride.’
She wasn’t even the bridesmaid.
She was the wedding planner.
She organised endless magical days, watching people live out their happy endings over and over again without having one of her own in sight.
No matter how much she loved her job, it was like she said: she was only human. Even the coldest of people would crack eventually.
“You know, Sylvie, we’re not that different,” I said, matching the volume of my voice to hers, to something barely above a whisper.
“Sure, it’s tough for her right now, but my younger sister is married, successful, and has a kid with one on the way.
I think it’s normal to feel a bit left behind.
More than that, it’s okay to feel that way. ”
God only knew I’d battled with the same feelings more than once.
I sighed and gazed at her for a moment. She didn’t respond, and her right eye twitched slightly. Her breathing was slow but heavy, and I had no way to control the way my lips moved of their own accord into a smile.
I knew she would fall asleep there the moment she laid down.
It was past midnight, and we’d had a long day, especially her.
Quietly, I got up and grabbed two blankets we’d used earlier. The fire was still blazing as it would for a few more hours until the embers finally died down, so I wasn’t worried about us getting cold by sleeping in here.
I could try to carry her up to bed, but honestly, I was a little afraid she’d hit me if I tried something like that.
I wouldn’t put it past her to karate-chop me in the head.
I carefully laid the blankets over her body. Thank God we’d gone upstairs to change into pyjamas after we’d eaten so she didn’t have to sleep in her jeans. They were dry now, but that didn’t mean they’d be comfortable.
Sylvie made a little grunting noise as I tucked the blankets up around her shoulders. She reached out and grabbed the edge of one, tugging it up under her chin. Her auburn hair fell across her face, and before I could stop myself, I reached out to gently sweep it away from her eyes.
Lonely.
Lonely was the last thing she’d ever struck me as. Same with being jealous—in all the times I’d seen her with Hazel since she’d come back to Castleton, I’d never once seen any signs of jealousy from her towards her little sister.
If anything, Sylvie had radiated nothing but pure happiness for Hazel and Julian. She was pure sunshine, lighting up the world wherever she went. Every time I laid eyes on her, she seemed to glow.
Just how badly was she hurting herself, keeping all these feelings locked away? How much did it hurt to be instrumental in the wedding day of so many people knowing it’s something you desperately dream of for yourself?
She’d even mentioned about Hazel having her family all around her—a family that belonged to her, too.
“Why don’t you just move back?” I whispered, lightly stroking her hair with my fingertips. “You can work from here now, and you’d have your family, too. You don’t need to do everything alone.”
That wouldn’t be all she’d have, either.
The realisation didn’t slam into me. It wasn’t a tsunami crashing down or a bullet train travelling at the speed of light knocking sense into me.
It was a gentle breeze, nothing more than a whisper of certainty of something I already knew. It flooded my veins with a quiet conviction of its depth, of just how badly I needed this woman to not disappear from my life again.
The moment Sylvie Harding opened her heart to me was the moment I lost mine to her.
The small scar above her right eyebrow served as a reminder of our long and troubled history, and with my fingers still in her hair, I pressed my lips against it softly.
“Stupid woman,” I whispered as I pulled away. “If you’re looking for a man who loves you, all you have to do is open your eyes.”
She didn’t.
Of course, she didn’t.
She was fast asleep.
With a sigh, I got up and turned off the lights.
She didn’t so much as twitch in my direction as I made my way to the other sofa, grabbed another blanket, and threw myself down on it.
I rolled my head to the side so I could stare at her as the light from the fireplace flickered across her delicate, unmoving features.
And it struck me that I was glad.
Glad my engagement failed.
Glad my heart had been broken.
Glad my attempt to win back my ex hadn’t worked.
If my engagement hadn’t been broken off, if I’d gotten married this past summer, I wouldn’t be here like this with Sylvie right now. We’d have been nothing more than two acquaintances running into each other every now and then. The cricket ball incident would have never been resolved.
I wouldn’t know what she looked like when she laughed, nor would I know the warmth I’d feel at its sound.
I wouldn’t know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a smile she’d fought against letting form.
I wouldn’t have any idea just how comfortable and easy it was to be with her, whether we were bickering, joking, or trying to figure out an issue with the wedding.
I wouldn’t know her.
I wouldn’t know who she is today. What she found funny. What made her tick. What made her happy. What hurt her.
And not knowing her would be the saddest thing of all.
After Millie disappeared and ended our relationship, everyone told me everything happens for a reason. It’d been little more than half-hearted placations in an attempt to say something to make me feel better. Back then, I couldn’t think of a possible reason why I had to go through that situation.
Now, I knew.
Everything did happen for a reason.
And maybe, just bloody maybe, Sylvie was that reason.
***
“Oh, you’re in here.”
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” I said dryly without bothering to turn from my computer.
Zara huffed. “Is that any way to greet your sister?”
“Sister? I’d almost forgotten I had one, given it’s been weeks upon weeks since I’ve seen her.”
“Thomas.”
“You could at least pretend to be sorry, Zara.” I spun my chair around to face her. “And don’t ‘Thomas’ me. When did you get here?”
“Just now. The roads are awful, aren’t they?”
“Better than they were yesterday when I got stranded. I’m surprised you managed to get here.”
“I barely did. I came in from Barrow-Upon-Heath’s side. They gritted the roads over there.”
“Lucky for Barrow-Upon-Heath. Clearly, we know who the council favours,” I said dryly. “Did you drive all the way, or did you have to stop?”
“I parked up by Portland Farm and walked the rest of the way here. I’ll need someone to take me out there when the roads clear a bit.”
“Good luck with that. I’m guessing you haven’t seen anyone else yet, then?”
Zara shook her head and walked around the desk. I followed her movement with the spin of my chair and glared at her when she dropped herself into one of the chairs in front of the desk.
“Can’t you see I’m working?”
“You can take a five-minute break. Where is everyone?”
“Your son is at school, which is where all good children should be at two o’clock in the afternoon on a weekday,” I retorted smartly.
She wrinkled up her nose. “I thought they might have closed it due to the weather.”
“This is Yorkshire. Not London. It’s just a bit of snow. If you can walk in it and the heating works, you can go to school.”
“All right, I get it. Is Beth at the shop?”
“Eight days before Christmas? What do you think? I doubt she’s figure skating down the river.”
My sister sighed, covering her face with her hands as Heath came in with two cups of something steaming.
“Your Grace,” he said, putting one of the mugs down in front of me. “I saw Lady Zara on her way in and thought I’d bring some tea.”
“Thanks, Heath. I appreciate it.”
Zara beamed at him. “Thank you.”
I glared at her.
“Also, the cars have been recovered, and Miss Harding is safely back at home along with the pig,” Heath continued. “Your vehicle has been returned to the garage.”
Zara raised her eyebrows at me, but I ignored her.
“Thank you. Would you mind closing the door on your way out?”
“Of course, sir.” Heath bobbed his head briefly and left, closing the door with a satisfying clunk behind him.
“Miss Harding, eh?” Zara went straight for the jugular. “Is that the betrothed one or the single one you once smacked in the face with a cricket ball?”
“It’s the one that’s none of your business,” I replied without missing a beat. “You don’t get to come back here after the shit you’ve pulled and start being a dutiful sister. Be a dutiful wife and mother before you start worrying about me. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Ouch.” She looked down at her hands, and a brief flash of guilt swept over me.
Only a brief one.
“If you want me to apologise, I’m not going to,” I warned her. “Because I’m not sorry.”