Page 88 of Unwritten Rules

“Apple blossoms were her favourite, you know? Much to your father’s disgust, she’d make us clean the whole orchard for bouquets to be strewn throughout the house.”

He laughs, remembering, and then sobers, intense blue eyes finding mine. “You probably don’t remember that, though.”

I shake my head. I have little to no memory of my mother. “I remember she was sad a lot.”

His face crumples. “Yes, Nathaniel. She was. Melancholy followed her daily. Death was an escape.” Undeniable pain flashes across his face. “She really was the light in the dark here at Hawthorne House.”

The light in the dark. Hellcat.

“Do you have one of those, son?”

“One of what?”

His lips turn up in a half smile. “A light in the dark. A calm in the chaos. A port in the storm – whatever way you romantics want to put it. A special person?”

Jesus, it’s like he’s pulled thoughts from my mind.

“You’ve grown very lyrical in your old age, Wetherby. Reading too much Cosmo?”

But instead of laughing at my obvious jibe, he watches me intently for several long beats. His stare is so forceful that I’m about to look away, when he speaks again.

“I’ve always been poetic, son. It’s not a trait previous generations of Hawthornes took seriously, though I’m glad to see you’ve changed that.”

We spend a full two hours in the shady grove. Mostly chatting about me, as he’s very interested in my literary ambitions, which I am forcefully against.

“I won’t write again, Wetherby. I don’t have another book inside of me. The words are gone; I’m afraid they’ll never return.”

“Never say never, Nathaniel.”

It strikes me just then. “You’re the only person who has ever called me Nathaniel.”

Other than Mila.

He nods. “Your father wanted it shortened from day one.” Rolling his eyes, he tuts dramatically. “Your father was an asshole.”

I almost choke on the laughter that erupts from my chest and fills the grove around us. I laugh and laugh until tears stream down my cheeks.

Wetherby’s body rumbles with laughter beside me, and it takes an age before I can compose myself. “For you to refer to him as an asshole, then he really must’ve been a complete bastard. So perhaps it’s not all just in my head.”

“No, sir. None of it was in your head.”

“Why did you stay, Wetherby? You could have worked anywhere, for anyone. So why stay at Hawthorne House?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, finding and holding my eyes. “For you, Nathaniel. You deserved a better childhood. The day you left and never looked back was the most bittersweet day for me.”

Smiling sadly, he leans over to drop the apple blossom bouquet onto my mother’s grave before he sits back and holds a shaky hand out to me.

“I’ve never been more proud to see you stand up and know your own worth. To not accept anything less than what you deserve – and to be brave enough to take it.”

My heart swells in my chest at those final words of his. It’s like he has an inside view of my insane mind.

Am I a coward for not taking what I want when she so clearly wants me too?

My eyes prickle with the threat of tears when he continues.

“That was the day you grew into the man I always knew you would become, Nathaniel. And I’m so proud to have been a small part of helping to shape that man.”

CHAPTER 26