Page 116 of On One Condition

I stand there and stare at her. I know she knows I’m here, so I struggle with what to say or how to say it. Hillary’s advice circles in my head.

“Thank you for standing up for me today. You didn’t need to,” I say, feeling like I’m tiptoeing around what we need to talk about but needing a jumping-off place to start somewhere.

“Yes, I did.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t open her eyes, just murmurs the three words.

“I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself today, but God, how I wish you would have let me defend you.”

“I don’t need anyone to defend me, Ledger. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. Fucking hell, I know you can, but would it hurt you to need my help every once in a while? To need me?” My voice breaks, and she finally opens her eyes and stares at me with a storm roiling in those gray irises of hers.

We hold each other’s gazes, and I have a feeling this is going to be one of the most important conversations I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve negotiated deals worth hundreds of millions of dollars. I’ve yanked contracts off tables without so much as a flinch. But this is the first time I’ve ever had to fight for something on a personal level. Truth be told, I’m fucking terrified I’m going to mess this up.

I walk forward and lower myself to my knees so that I’m sitting in front of her. “Why didn’t you tell me your plans for The Fields? About the proposal? I mean, I understand wanting it to be awarded on your own merit, but . . . you completely shut me out of something that is so much a part of you. Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you lie to me?”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Asher

He stares at me, the muscle in his jaw ticking, his eyes imploring.

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“You chose not to tell me. Same difference.”

“It’s not.”

“To me it is. Hasn’t there been enough lies that have come between us, Asher? No more lies. No more deception. No more lying by omission. Please.”

“Ledger. I didn’t mean to—”

“You opted to say you were simply updating the farm rather than tell me you were creating a whole new business for yourself. Why? Why couldn’t you tell me, Asher? What is it about me that made you think you couldn’t confide in me?”

My stomach twists in a knot at the hurt etched in the lines of his handsome face. “I know you won’t understand, but I just . . . I needed to do this for me.”

“Do you think I would have stopped you? That I would have tried to control it? Your transformation of The Fields, your idea to make it a destination, is incredible. There’s no way you could have thought I’d tell you otherwise. So, what is it, Asher? What are you not telling me?”

You’re going to leave me, and I need something to soften the heartbreak.

My hands tremble as I open and close my mouth. I don’t have an answer other than that.

“What are we doing here, Ledger? Fooling ourselves? Pretending that your penance here isn’t up in a few weeks, and you’re not going to go back to your life, and I’m not going to go back to mine?” His expression falls at my words. “Is it too much to have one thing in my life that you haven’t touched? One thing that’s completely mine so I’m not reminded of you every time I’m around it or see it or think of it?”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? That’s why this has been so important to me. I know he’s leaving and when he does, everything in this town, in my house, even the goddamn lavender fields, will remind me of him. And now, even my inescapable failure to start a business will be tied to him too.

“So rather than talk about it, talk about us, you’d rather just bury your head in the sand and act like this—like we—didn’t happen?”

“Bury my head in the sand? I think my actions are perfectly justifiable considering your intentions—your plans—are pretty self-explanatory.” I can feel my armor slipping on. Layer upon layer. Shielding me when I fear nothing is going to be able to protect me from the hurt that’s to come.

“What the hell do you mean my plans are self-explanatory?” he demands.

“It’s just a fling that will be over in a few weeks. Then your penance will be done and you’ll get to go back home.” I blink away the tears that those words cause. “I believe those were your words, weren’t they?”

“Asher. No. You don’t understand.” He puts his hands on my knees and squeezes. I try not to flinch at his touch because everything inside of me is telling me to run, right now. To pull away while I can, but even I’m not that strong. He chuckles disbelievingly, but I feel like I’m being mocked, and it rubs me the wrong way.

“So you didn’t say that?” I damn well know he did.

“No. I did. It’s just”—he scrubs a hand through his hair—“my brothers were harassing me over what we, you and I, were. They wouldn’t let it go. The easiest way to get them off my back was to say something like that. To play it down so they’d back off . . .” He searches my eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything to me? Why didn’t you just flat-out ask me?”