Tongues would wag about the corporate takeover and the fire Livvy’s twin had been accused of starting. But most importantly, people would talk about the accident. And how Maria Chandler and Robert Kane had been driving up to the Chandlers’ lake house when they’d died, at a time when they were both allegedly out of town, separately, seeing to company and foundation business.
They’d talk about how Maria and Robert had dated in high school, and how strange it had been they hadn’t ended up together, because they were fun and normal and relatable, unlike their distant, wealthy spouses.
They’d whisper about an affair.
Suddenly he was twenty-three again, standing in front of his father, the man destroying the softest part of his heart.Be realistic, Nicholas. If you can’t do this for your mother’s memory, then do it for the rest of your family. Family first.
“Think of the family,” Brendan said now, and Nicholas knew exactly what he was really saying.My threat from ten years ago still stands, and you know it.
Young Nicholas had looked into his father’s eyes and fully believed that the man was capable of anything in his blind quest for revenge against the dead man who had wronged him. Including cheating that dead man’s widow, a woman he’d grown up with. Including blackmailing his one and only son.
Older Nicholas still believed it.
He tightened his fist so much that pain shot through him.You are a realist. This should not hurt. Do not let it hurt.
He slowly released his hand. “I always do.”
“Good.” Brusque now, mission accomplished, Brendan stalked to the door. “Get me that site survey.”
Nicholas listened to the echo of the door as it closed behind his father. Ice cold. The chill had settled in his chest and spread to his arms and legs, the animation Livvy had cranked into him halted.
He had a mountain of work on his desk, dozens of people waiting for him to make some sort of decision on a million different subjects. He’d go and handle all of that. He’d keep busy.
He moved over to the corner and crouched downnext to the broken glass and picked up the pieces, putting the tinier ones inside the bigger base. Then he paused for a second. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, calling up his messages.
Can I help you?
Quit creeping.
If you want a tattoo, you’ll have to come inside.
Three texts. One number at the top.
If you want to talk to me, text me.
Only he’d never done that. Texting her would be out of character, out of the pattern.
He watched the cursor in the empty reply box blink. He could send her a message, warning her about his father, but he didn’t think Brendan would actually do anything to her. Brendan had railed about Tani and Paul remaining in what he viewed as his town, but as far as Nicholas knew, the old man had never actually confronted them.
He swiped his thumb over the conversation and stared at the Delete box. He should do it. Remove the temptation of even having her number. He accepted the deletion, an odd sense of loss moving through him at erasing his link to her.
It’s still in the cloud.
Technology. It ensured no ex was ever truly gone.
He tucked the phone back into his pocket and finished cleaning up the glass. As he was leaving the room, he grabbed the untouched tray of cookies to deliver to his staff.
He picked up a chocolate chip cookie. The doughwas soft, depressing under his fingertips, the chocolate smearing over his thumb. He lifted it to his mouth and took a tiny bite, the bittersweet chocolate exploding on his tongue.
Not healthy.
He licked his thumb and dropped the cookie in the trashcan on the way out. The wind-up man was back in his case, and there he would stay.
There was no other choice, not for him. Or Livvy.
Chapter 4
EVERY YEAR,after Nicholas left her while she slept—or pretended to sleep—Livvy would roll over in the hotel bed and grab her phone. The first couple of years, she’d read the text that brought him to her and cry, clutching her phone to her chest, aching over the empty space in the bed.
