“What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say too quickly.
He comes around the counter anyway, gentle hands steadying mine.
“Rose.”
I swallow.
“They pity you,” I whisper.
His brow furrows. “Who does?”
“The town,” I say. “They think you were desperate. That you sent for a wife because you couldn’t do better.”
His jaw tightens, but I rush on, the words tumbling out now that they’ve found air.
“They think I’m what you were left with.”
Silence stretches between us, heavy and dangerous.
Grady cups my face, thumbs warm against my cheeks.
“They’re wrong,” he says simply.
But later, lying awake beside him, listening to his even breathing, I stare at the ceiling and think of Mrs. Calder’s voice.
Poor man.
If I stay, they will keep punishing him for choosing me.
By morning, I already know what I have to do. Divorcing him will break my heart, but watching his dream die will destroy me.
I don’t remember moving, only that suddenly I’m at the small kitchen table with my hands wrapped around a mug.
“You don’t understand,” I say. “This town is eating you alive because of me.”
Grady leans against the counter, arms folded, watching me the way he always does, as if I am something worth studying carefully.
“I understand just fine,” he says. “You’re trying to save me by breaking your own heart.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s accurate.”
I laugh, sharp and brittle. “If this shop fails—”
“I’ll do something else.”
“You’ve worked too hard—”
He pushes away from the counter then, crossing the room in three long strides. He crouches in front of me, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“You are my wife,” he says firmly. “No business could ever be worth more to me than you are.”
My breath stutters.
“Grady…”
