I sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed about admitting what my life had looked like before coming here. But if I was going all in with Sylvie, she deserved to know exactly what kind of person I’d been.
“I was living off my trust fund,” I said. “Waking up whenever I wanted, usually around noon. My days were spent going to the gym, maybe meeting up with friends for lunch at some overpriced restaurant where we’d spend three hours drinking wine and accomplishing nothing.”
“That doesn’t sound terrible,” she said, though I could hear the curiosity in her voice.
“It gets worse,” I admitted. “Nights were for clubbing or attending gallery openings where I’d pretend to care about art while networking with people who were just as empty as I was. Sometimes I’d fly to Miami or LA on a whim, just because I wasbored. I dated women whose names I can barely remember now. Women who were more interested in my bank account than who I was as a person.”
I felt her tense slightly against me. I tightened my arms around her.
“I wasn’t a good person, Sylvie. I was shallow and selfish and completely directionless. My father kept telling me I needed to get serious about the family business, but I didn’t see the point. Why work when I already had more money than I could spend?”
“What changed?” she asked softly.
“He gave me an ultimatum,” I said. “Either I start taking my role in the business seriously, or he’d cut me off completely. No more trust fund, no more penthouse, no more credit cards with unlimited spending. I’d have to actually work for a living like everyone else.”
“So you came here to prove yourself.”
“I came here to close a deal that would impress him enough to get him off my back,” I corrected. “I had no intention of actually changing. I figured I’d swoop in, convince your family to sell, go back to New York with a win under my belt, and continue living my meaningless life.”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“But then I met you. And you showed me what it looked like to actually care about something beyond yourself. To work hard not because you had to, but because you genuinely loved what you were doing. To create joy for other people instead of just chasing your own pleasure.”
“I’m not that special,” she protested.
“You are to me,” I said. “You made me realize that I’d been sleepwalking through my entire adult life. That all the parties and travel and expensive toys were just ways to fill the emptiness inside. I was a professional bum, Sylvie. I contributed nothing to the world. I took and took and never gave anything back.”
She was quiet for a moment, processing what I’d told her. “And now?” she finally asked.
“Now I want to build something,” I said. “With you.”
She kissed me softly. I felt her smile against my lips. “When did you get so romantic?”
“When I met a woman who made me want to be better than I was.”
She snuggled back against me with a content sigh. “We should probably sleep. Tomorrow is going to be intense.”
I would have to face my own family and deal with the fallout from my decision eventually if her family accepted my proposal.
CHAPTER 59
SYLVIE
Iwoke up wrapped in warmth and contentment, sunlight streaming through my bedroom window and Kent’s arm draped across my waist. For a moment, I lay perfectly still, afraid that moving might shatter whatever dream I’d fallen into.
This was what life was all about. He was the dream I had always been afraid to allow myself to have.
The steady rhythm of his breathing against my neck was real. The weight of his body beside mine was real. The tender soreness that reminded me of everything we’d shared the night before was very,veryreal.
And so good.
Kent came back for me. He’d professed his love for me. He’d told me he would stay and live here on the farm with me.
Was I really this lucky?
I turned carefully in his arms, not wanting to wake him. I studied his sleeping face. In the morning light, he looked younger. Almost innocent. The messy hair and stubble were cute. His expression was relaxed. His lashes were darker than I’d realized. And thicker. Jerk. That wassonot fair. There was the faintest suggestion of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Like even in sleep, he was happy.
