Either way, Elizabeth is happy, and she deserves that happiness. I would do anything for her.
“Theo,” she says, a warning in her voice. “Tell me you’re not going to go through with this. Say it to me, right now.”
“Elizabeth.” I sigh, only for her to start shaking her head.
“No. Absolutely not. Do not start this crap with me, Theo. Just moments ago, you were telling me how you’re in love. How could you possibly just give that up? For what? To help out a man who has been an abusive arse to you for your entire life? I will not stand by and allow you to accommodate him.”
“And I won’t stand by and watch him try to rip your life apart.”
“He won’t.”
I nod. “He will. Don’t be naive in thinking that he doesn’t have the power or the will to do so. And you know what…” I sigh, letting the truth settle over me. “He’s right—it comes down to the title. Who is going to take it if it’s not me?”
“Why do you even care?”
“I care about you and your happiness,” I say as I drag my hand down my face. “And maybe there is some sick part of me that is actually concerned about the title, not because I want it, but because of what kind of storm it will cause if I don’t take it. I don’t want it, but who the hell is going to take it over?”
“Some cousin.” Elizabeth tosses her hands up in the air in frustration. “Just because we choose different lives doesn’t mean that the name will die with us. There are plenty of family members who can take it over. Unfortunately for our father, it won’t rest within his grasp.”
“I…I don’t know,” I say, my stomach churning and my brain working overtime.
“Theo,” she chastises. “You can’t possibly be thinking about throwing your life away, never seeing Renley again, all for what? For him?” She gestures to our father’s room. “I won’t let you do it.”
Looking my sister in the eyes, I say, “Maybe we really don’t have a choice.”
And then with that, I make my way down the stairs and head for the front door.
I need to think.
And I need to get the hell out of here.
Chapter Forty-Nine
RENLEY
“I don’t know,” Tilly says, looking around the space. “This is pretty bleak.” She kicks a box that shoots up a ball of dust.
“It’s not great,” I answer, taking in the studio apartment above the candy shop that hasn’t seen life in I don’t even know how long. “But maybe a little bit of cleaning and it could be okay?”
“You’re going to need a lot of cleaning.” Tilly walks over to one of the windows and opens it up, letting in the sounds of the street as well as the installers who are currently switching out the windows in the shop. We put up room dividers to block the view of everything we’ve done, so no one can garner a sneak peek before the opening. “Ooh, thank God, fresh air.” She leans against the window frame, sucking in air.
“It does have quite a bit of a musty smell, doesn’t it?” I sniff, nearly choking on the dust floating around. Not sure why Ira never rented out the space. Sure, it’s small and only has one room with a spot for a kitchen and a connecting bathroom, butgiven the expense of housing in town, this could have been a gold mine.
“Musty is a nice way of putting it.” Tilly picks up a piece of cardboard box and starts wafting it toward the window. “You need to get the dust out of here or you might suffocate.”
“Yeah, but at least it’s pretty empty for the most part besides a few boxes, and the bathroom is decent, just needs a scrub. And the kitchen area is cute.”
“Are you really going to call that a kitchen? It’s a mini fridge, a microwave, and a cupboard.”
“Yes, but there is a sink hookup, so I can turn that space into something so much more.”
Tilly sets the cardboard down and places her hands on her hips. “I don’t know, are you sure working things out with your aunt isn’t an option? You’re really going to move up here?”
I shrug and collect the random empty boxes. “I just don’t know how viable living there is. I think there is a lot of tension between us and I don’t see it getting better. I think there needs to be a separation.”
“Yes, but are you running away from a problem?” Tilly asks, always the voice of reason. “Because having your own place is a good idea. I just want to make sure you’re not running away, especially since she’s the only remaining family you have.”
“I know.” I toss the last piece of cardboard into the pile. “We’re just not on the same wavelength right now, and it might be best to have that separation.”
