“I’m not being silly.” Ellie’s face was blotched with pink, her eyes shining just a little too bright.
“I’m not just going to let you make such a big mistake. Max at Silver Wolff said there’s still time for you to sign the contract. You can call him this week and get it finalized. We’ll go out together afterward and celebrate.” Steven gave a sharp nod, as if it was all decided. “I realize now that I haven’t spent enough time with you lately, and there’s a lot I could teach you.”
“But—”
“No buts. It’s time to grow up.”
Ellie’s face twisted, but she didn’t speak.
It was too much. The look on Ellie’s face was unbearable. Shewasn’talone. She had his support. And Jon was not going to wait on the sideline if she needed him. He strode forward to stand between them, a human buffer. “That’s enough, Steven. If anyone’s making a mistake?—”
Ellie’s father cut him off, stepping up close enough to touch him. “You need to do what’s right, Eleanor.”
Steven was far too close to be anywhere near comfortable. But that wasn’t the problem. The real problem was that Steven was still speaking to Ellie. He was still looking at Ellie. And he was lookingright throughJon.
As if he wasn’t there at all.
As if he didn’t even exist.
Chapter Eight
The path meanderedthrough ancient oak and ash. Past tall trunks, reaching leaves, and sunlight dappling along the sandy path. But even as the massive trees stretched for the blue sky and sunshine, Ellie was caught in the dim green shadows at their feet.
She could hardly remember the end of the conversation with her father. All she knew was her desperate need for Steven to leave and go to whatever important meeting he had planned for that day. To just go away and let Ellie process the loss of her fantasy alone.
She had seen the moment Jon realized Steven couldn’t see him. Watched as his expression turned from irate and protective to grim and bleak, and finally settled on blankly stoic. And then she’d watched him walk away. A few minutes later, she’d seen him through the window as he stalked across the deck and leaned against the railing, looking out at the garden and the wood beyond. All while her father continued talking without noticing him at all. Without seeing him. At all.
The end of the conversation was a blur. She had no idea what Steven had said, other than how annoyed he was that Ellie wasn’t listening. But Ellie didn’t care; she wanted Steven toleave, and thank God he finally muttered something about the time and did.
Ellie had closed the door on her father and then stalled. The empty mirror in the hallway glared back at her, taunting her while the house closed in on her. It was too uncomfortable. Too airless. Or perhaps that was her lungs, because the familiar rooms were too big and empty without Jon. She’d had to get out.
She left him brooding on the deck. She had no idea what to say to him, and before she even tried to find the right words, she needed to get her spinning emotions under control.
She pulled on a pair of boots, let herself out her back door, and strode through her vegetable garden and across her lawn to the wrought iron gate, half hidden in the overgrown hedge. From there the forest spread out in front of her, offering a choice of paths to escape down.
It had seemed like the respite she needed. But now, hours later, walking in a slow spiral back toward her cottage, she was alone with her thoughts. And she didn’t like any of them.
For as long as she could remember, she’d solved her problems by working harder. Practicing and perfecting until she was certain of success. Always doing more. Giving more. Making sure everyone around her had everything they needed before she could rest.
But now she was starting to wonder if her rest would ever come. All her hard work hadn’t saved her from getting hurt. And the one thing she wanted for herself wasn’t even real.
“Ellie.” Jon’s gruff voice called from behind her, breaking into her thoughts, and she stopped walking. She hung her head, refusing to look at him. Refusing to take part in this… whatever this was.
“Ellie!” He was right behind her now, but she still didn’t look.
“I know you can hear me.”
If his words had been angry or threatening she could have walked away. But he sounded tired and a little unsure.
And shewantedto see him.
She turned, lifting her head, and he was there. He looked like he sounded: wary. With dark rings under his eyes, his beard even more scruffy over his clenched jaw. But he also looked… perfect. Like the man who’d stood up to challenge her father for her. Who’d sat at the foot of her bed and listened to her dreams. Whose eyes sought hers again and again. Whose heavy arms and tantalizing ink she’d longed to run her fingers over. Who she honestly knew nothing about.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered.
“Like what?”
“Like you can’t decide whether to walk away.”
