When my father died and the company began to collapse, the board wanted stability. A legacy. A family man.
So, I made a deal with a woman who already knew my past.
It was never love. It was strategy.
But Lynda played her role too well. The devoted fiancée. The perfect future. Somewhere along the way, she stopped pretending.
“Yes, that was the agreement,” she said softly. “But we proved we work. Together we’re powerful. We gave this town hope. I showed you what we could build.”
I looked at her then really looked.
“And you showed me,” I said, “exactly what you were willing to destroy to get it.”
Silence stretched between us.
Lynda searched my face, as if waiting for doubt, for hesitation. She found none.
“This ends here,” I said.
Her breath hitched. “Ashton—”
“There will be no wedding.” My voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. “No announcement. No graceful delay. The charade ends today.”
She nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “Then this is it.”
“Yes,” I said. “This is it.”
Lynda turned toward the door. Her hand trembled as she reached for the handle.
“At least tell me one thing,” she said without looking back. “If Bailey had never come back… would you have married me?”
I held her gaze in the reflection of the glass.
“No,” I said. “Because even then, it would have been a lie.”
The door closed softly behind her.
For the first time in years, the silence that followed didn’t feel empty.
It felt final.
Chapter 22
BAILEY
The mountains had always been my refuge when my thoughts grew too loud.
I spent the afternoon hiking near my cottage, letting the narrow trail pull me higher and farther away from the weight pressing against my chest. The view was breathtaking, the kind that stole your breath and silenced your worries for a fleeting second or two. Despite the town growing more modern by the day, nature here remained stubbornly untouched, as if refusing to bend to anyone’s chaos but its own.
I stopped to catch my breath and pulled out my phone, calling Sissy. I gave her a quick update on the past few days and, as usual, unloaded every anxious thought cluttering my mind.
“An angry Ashton I could handle,” I said. “But a quiet Ashton? That was what terrified me.”
“Maybe he just needed time to cool off,” Sissy replied calmly. “You were overthinking.”
“It made me anxious, you know. Who knew what he was planning right now? He could have been gathering an army of lawyers somewhere in a secret underground bunker, plotting strategy. Next thing I knew, he would storm into my cottage demanding I hand over his only heir.”
“Oh please, Bailey,” she scoffed. “You were overreacting. You watched too many K dramas.”
