There were images of him at local events when he was younger along with his parents. I’d discovered Roane’s family had been granted a baronetcy by the Crown in the seventeenth century, and they had marriage ties to the dukedom way back then. The Alnster baronetcy was one of the oldest left in England, and although, as Roane had explained, they weren’t members of the peerage, it was still a respected title.
Roane’s grandfather Edward was the first baronet to avoid becoming a member of Parliament, instead concentrating on rebuilding a dwindling estate. Roane’s father had inherited it and expanded that wealth by starting the maintenance company, and Roane had continued to expand upon their little empire.
I found an article on the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland’s anniversary gala a few years ago, and Roane and his parents were on the list of guests who’d attended.
No wonder he’d known Alnwick Castle like the back of his hand.
He’d been there, mingling with a duke.
Memories flooded me, all the moments I’d forgotten, where he’d hesitated over taking me to the farm or hedged about details regarding his family. Times where I’d heard him say, “Evie, we need to talk,” or, “I need to tell you something.”
He had attempted to tell me the truth.
I saw that now.
But he hadn’t tried hard enough.
And I hadn’t thought to look. I’d stared at photos of him online, trying to figure out how I’d missed so much, including his age. I blamed that damn beard. But it wasn’t the beard, really. It was Roane. He had this innate maturity and authority that made him seem older.
What I wouldn’t do, however, was blame myself.
I pulled in a shuddering breath, pain constricting my throat as I fought back the emotion. It was the lies he’d told. The lies were almost inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Silly even. Truths that would never have stopped me from giving him a chance or loving him.
It was his ability to lie to me.
And the villagers’ deception.
All this time I’d thought I was one of them, but they’d kept this from me, like it was a game. Like I wasn’t permanent but just that summer’s entertainment.
I saw Milly approach the store door, and my stomach plummeted.
Yesterday I’d had to deal with Viola and Caro. I’d told them I was leaving, just not when, and during separate visits they’d both begged me to stay. It was hard with Viola. I was angry at her, at everyone, for lying to me, but I still cared about her. I’d still miss her.
It was heart wrenching with Caro. She’d pleaded with me not to leave before thinking things through, offering to keep me company by staying in my guest room or for me to stay with her, to give me time to fully process the situation with her support. When I refused, Caro cried in my arms, and despite being pissed at her for helping Roane lie, I’d hated hurting her.
So not only did I have Roane to blame for breaking my heart, I could blame him for the guilt I felt in breaking Caro’s heart.
Milly pushed open the door I’d left unlocked for my cab’s arrival. Even the thought of having to call a cab infuriated me. I’d never rented that car like I’d promised myself I would because I’d become solely dependent on Roane and my friends to take me anywhere I needed to go.
I’d handed over my independence to them in so many ways.
Greer was right. I’d come to Alnster to find myself, and instead I’d just lost myself in a man, and in a fantasy.
The cab wasn’t due for another half hour, but I’d thought it would be easier to wait in the store than up in the apartment that held so many memories of intimate moments with Roane.
I’d been wrong. It wasn’t easier to be down here.
Losing the bookstore was agony too.
Milly was focused on me but then something caught her attention in her peripheral vision. The luggage. Her head snapped toward it, then back to me, and her eyes widened. “You’re leaving now?”
I swallowed my guilt. “My cab is on its way.”
“Oh, Evie.” She strode toward me, determination etched in her face. “Don’t go, lass. Don’t be so rash about this. You know you belong here.”
Bitterness cut through me. “I don’t belong here. You turned me into the village entertainment.”
Milly’s face hardened. “If you knew anything about us, you’d know that wasn’t true.”
I clenched my teeth to stop myself from lashing out at her.
“Evie.” Her expression softened at whatever she saw in my eyes. “It seemed harmless at first. We all could see how much Roane liked you right off the bat, and we all heard you spouting about those silly rules. We didn’t want you to discount him for stupid nonsense like that. We wanted happiness for him. We’re protective of him. Of each other. And we let you in, Evie.” She reached out to touch my arm. “We let you in from the get-go, and that never happens, lass. We let you in because you shine so bright and you are special indeed. We knew that this place was your home before you even did. And we don’t want to lose you.”
The tears I’d been fighting slipped free. Not ravaging, desperate tears like those I’d cried in front of Roane, but that didn’t mean they hurt any less. “This place isn’t my home,” I denied. “It never was.”
Milly squeezed my arm, giving me a pitying look. “You know that’s a lie. Because for someone who supposedly doesn’t think that, you sure made yourself at home here, meddling in people’s lives. We can’t even be sorry for it,” she rushed to assure me as my face fell. “Look at all you’ve done since you came here. You gave Penny the opportunity to see if Melbourne was the right place for her. You helped Caro find the confidence to leave that wicked woman behind and start her life. You brought Annie and Maggie Foster together after years of separation. And I know that it was you that meddled between Viola and Lucas.” She gave me a semi-chastising look. “Viola told me you were the one who realized Lucas cared for her, and although I wish some things didn’t happen the way they did, I can’t say I’m not happy for how things have turned out. That boy looks at my bairn like he’d take a bullet for her . . . and although I was worried about them, how can a mother not be happy that her bairn is blissfully in love with a boy who loves her back just as much. With everything he has. Lucas loves Vi just as much as Roane loves you.”
“Milly—”
“And because of you, Kathy Elliot came to me.”
Shocked, I shut my mouth.
“Aye. We talked for the first time ever. All because she doesn’t want to lose Lucas. She and I made peace, Evie. Not with West. That’ll never happen. But Kathy and I made peace for the sake of the kids. And that’s because of you.” Her eyes shimmered now as she reached up to caress my cheek, her expression almost motherly. “You’re a piece of magic, lass, and this place needs you.”
The strength I’d been holding on to failed me and I ducked my head as I shuddered and choked on my tears. After a minute of trying to keep it together, I raised my head. “I’m sorry, Milly,” I whispered with regret. “I can’t stay.”
With that, she pulled me into a hug, one that was almost comical with our height difference, but the moment was too sad for humor. She squeezed me tight and without another word pulled away and marched out of the store.
When my cab appeared a little while later, I was still trembling as the driver helped me out with the luggage. As he put my suitcases into the trunk of his car, I locked the bookstore, popped my key into an envelope, and slipped it into the store’s mailbox.
With a juddering sigh, I turned on my heel and promptly stumbled at the sight of Roane and Shadow standing beside the cab.
Roane’s chest was heaving like he’d been running, sweat glistening on his temples. I glanced beyond him to see the Defender parked near the harbor in the only parking space available.
Shadow tore away from Roane’s side and bounded toward
me, and renewed grief flooded me as I wrapped my arms around his supple body and made my silent goodbyes.
“Milly called me,” Roane said as I straightened from hugging Shadow.
I’d assumed as much.
“We ready?” the driver asked me, glancing between Roane and me.
“Give us a few minutes.” Roane handed him some money, and the driver took it before getting into the car to give us a little privacy.
I didn’t want privacy.
I didn’t want this goodbye.
I wasn’t sure my heart could take it.
Staring at his face, I thought I saw his youth now. There weren’t any deep laughter lines around his eyes yet, and the beard hid any telltale age lines around his mouth, if there were any. Then there was his energy. Not that a thirtysomething didn’t have energy, but Roane had the stamina of twenty-six-year-old, of that there was no doubt.
I shivered in half grief, half longing.
He would never touch me again.
We’d never lie tangled in each other’s arms again.
Fuck, it hurt.
It hurt so badly, I wanted to scream at him until he told me it was all a joke, that he’d never lied, that he was just Roane.
Just my Roane.
I wished I could get over it.
I wished I could forgive.
But he was the one person in my life I couldn’t handle disappointing me.
And it was time for me to return to reality and stop living in a fucking fantasyland.
“You’re making a mistake,” he said, taking a step toward me.
Shadow trotted to his side, like he knew Roane needed him more than I did.
“You made the mistake,” I whispered.
He flinched. “Evie, I’m not telling you to just get over this. But don’t run off back to Chicago right away without giving this time. We’re worth figuring this out.”
I tried to close my ears, not wanting to hear the pleading tone in his voice. It was killing me.
“I gave the ring to Caro.” When I’d returned home after our confrontation, I’d discovered the ring still sitting on the kitchen counter. So, I’d handed it off to Caro when we said goodbye.
The muscle in Roane’s jaw twitched. “I know. She gave it to me.”
“I have to go.” I stepped toward the cab, unable to face him any longer.
“Evie, please,” he begged. “Please just forgive me. I’ll do anything.”
“I have to go,” I repeated, my voice breaking.
Tears burned in Roane’s eyes. “You get in the taxi, you take everything I am with you. You leave behind a fucking shell of a man. Over two stupid little lies that don’t mean anything, that don’t have any bearing on who I am or what you mean to me. Evie, please . . .”
Just like that, the pieces left of my heart splintered inside me. On a choked sob, I hauled open the back passenger door of the cab and threw myself in.
“Newcastle airport?” the driver confirmed.
“Yes,” I wheezed out.
As he pulled away from the sidewalk, I couldn’t help myself.
I turned and looked out the back window of the car and watched as Roane Robson scrubbed the tears from his face, his desolation so acute, there was a flicker . . . a flicker of doubt.
A flicker.
Now who was lying?
The truth was, as I cried in the back seat of the cab, the driver stiff and uncomfortable with my emotional display, I felt more than a flicker of doubt.
Yet I couldn’t seem to make myself ask the driver to turn the car around.
The impact of the shattered illusion of the life I thought we were beginning together in Alnster was bigger than my doubts.
I wanted Greer. I wanted Chicago.
My life there had never been a lie, a fantasy.
My life there was real.
I’d been lonely in Chicago, but it had never broken my heart.
Twenty-Seven
My friend was not glowing like people said pregnant women glowed. Her cheeks were flushed, yes, but the skin under her eyes was dark from lack of sleep.
Seven months pregnant, Greer sat on the sofa with her feet up on a stool, hands braced on her rounded stomach as she gazed at me. Pitifully.
We sat in her small apartment, while Andre was out picking up some takeout for dinner. I’d been back in Chicago for a week, and the aches and pains through my whole body would not dissipate.
The last time I remembered feeling like that was when my dad died.
Guilt mingled with my heartache because surely I shouldn’t equate breaking up with Roane to losing my father.
“It’s not just about him,” Greer suddenly said. “The way you talked about them during our catch-ups . . . it’s all of them. It’s the village and your friends, not just him. You’re homesick.”
“I’m not homesick,” I denied. “I’m going home tomorrow.”
It was true. I was renting a car and driving to Carmel to stay with my mom and Phil for a while.
“That’s not your home, Evie.”
“Greer . . .” I sighed. “Can we not? Can we just talk about the baby?”
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “Once the baby is here, that’s all we’ll talk about, trust me. So before the baby takes over everything, we’re talking about this, even if you hate me for it. Because . . .” She leaned toward me, her expression openly concerned. “I’ve never seen you like this. Not even about your mom.”
“Like what?” I asked dully.
“Like that.” Greer gestured to me impatiently. “Voice flat, eyes hard and empty. Every now and then I’ll see pain in them, which is a far sight better than nothing at all. You’ve lost weight.”
“I can’t lose weight in a week.” But it was true. My jeans felt a little looser around the waist.
“Evie . . . you’re grieving.”
“So what if I am?”
“So what if you are?” she snapped. “Evie, Roane didn’t die! The village didn’t disappear. You made a choice to leave him and it behind. Are you sure it was the right choice?”
I stared at her in disbelief. “He lied. They lied.”
“A white lie. Okay, two white lies. But he’s not your mom. This doesn’t mean he’ll lie to you again. Or that everything he showed you about who he is isn’t the truth. Don’t you think if you can forgive your mom for years of disappointing you, you can forgive him for one slipup?”
I glared at her. “I held him to a higher standard than that.”
“Well, that’s on you. Not him. He’s just a human being.”
Astonished, I flew to my feet. “How can you take his side?”
“Because,” she replied calmly. “You tore out of there before giving yourself a chance to process what happened. The result being a miserable not even half version of my best friend standing in my sitting room.”
“I don’t need to take this.” I grabbed my purse and turned to leave.
“Evie, stop.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Greer pull herself to standing. She gave me an appeasing look.
“Let me just ask one more thing and you can storm out of here after.”
I nodded, gesturing for her to continue.
“What terrified you so much that you cut him out without even considering forgiving him?”
Fresh tears welled in my eyes. I shrugged.
“That’s not an answer,” Greer pushed.
“It was proof, okay. Proof that none of it was real. It was all a lie, a fantasy, and I acted impulsively and naively.”
“It was all a fantasy . . . why . . . because you were happy? Do you think it can’t be real if it makes you that happy?”
“Apparently not.”
“Evie—”
“I just . . . I thou
ght he was better. I thought he would never hurt me.” The tears spilled free.
Greer hurried across the room to wrap her arms around me. She was shorter than me and her bump was in the way, but she did her best to hug me. When she finally released me, she said, “No one is perfect, Evie. And no matter how good a person is, it would be rare for them to go through life never hurting anyone, unintentionally or not. Have you?”
I knew I’d hurt people unintentionally in the past. And I knew I’d hurt Roane by leaving.
“No,” I whispered.
“Then why,” Greer asked gently, “should Roane be held to a higher standard than you hold yourself? Why should all of them be? Sounds to me like they liked you so much, they were willing to band together just to help their boy keep you permanently in his life.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling like she’d punched me in the gut.
Confusion swamped me as those doubts I felt from the moment I’d gotten in that cab swam up to the surface.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
* * *
• • •
Carmel was a very pretty city in Indiana. Driving through its streets brought back wave after wave of nostalgia and memories. Although I’d grown up in the lower-income side of town, when I was in college, Phil got a promotion to management in the industrial equipment manufacturing plant where he worked. This meant he and Mom could move to a nicer house, although I think it was a struggle to keep it since they had Mom’s rehab bills to pay.
I’d offered up my inheritance a long time ago to cover those bills, but Phil had stubbornly refused.
They lived on a picture-perfect suburban street, where every house was the same except in color. They all had triangular slate roofs and a Palladian porch, but some were red brick and others were painted pale blue, lemon yellow, or light gray.
Mom and Phil’s house was pale gray, but while most others on the street looked like they’d recently had a fresh coat of paint, theirs was looking a little in need of love.
After I parked the rental car in the drive behind Phil’s truck, I’d barely taken a step out of the vehicle when the front door flew open and Phil appeared.
Much Ado About You Page 28