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"You'll tire of my drama."
"Isha, don't you get it, I can never tire of you, of trying for us. I loved you even when I didn't have you with me. But you're here now, I can touch you, see you. I couldn't walk away even if I wanted to. I don't have a choice in this."
"There's always a choice," I swallowed.
"Not in this. Not for me."
I took a deep breath and released it tremulously. It was so tempting to believe him, but something inside me just wouldn't let me.
"There's no rush," he continued. "No pressure. Just make a little time for me. Three hours every Sunday."
"And that's enough?"
"Not at all. But that's what you can allow me right now, and I understand that. Let me earn your trust. You offered it to me last time with no effort on my part, and I fucked it up. I'll never do that again. This one chance you've agreed to is…everything. I'm going to make it count. You won't have to give me another."
He was saying all the right things. He was doing all the right things. But we'd been on exactly two dates. This was a new relationship.
"How did you get high tea served here?" I asked, changing the topic.
He chuckled. "My hotel's staff is very adept."
"And your pots of money help."
"Money always helps."
"You know I don't care about your money." I didn't mention it, but we were both thinking about the times he'd called me a gold-digger.
"I know. In fact, I have a feeling you'd prefer it if I didn't have so much of it."
Which was true. Money spoiled people, made them feel entitled, led them to live a life where they cared less about others. Not all people with money, but I believed many were like that.
"I'm not complaining about this." I spread my hands. "The gallery, this meal, you. It's perfect."
The morning stretched on, each moment a thread in the tapestry we were weaving together. As we lingered over the last crumbs and the final drops of tea, I realized that to Rowan and even me, this was more than just a date. It was a promise, a glimpse of what could be, wrapped in the simple beauty of sharing tea and time.
When we finally rose to leave, the patio felt like a memory from a dream, ethereal and perfect. As we stepped back into the gallery, I carried with me the warmth of the tea, the sweetness of the cakes, and the fervent hope that I wasn't making a big mistake.
Chapter 26
Rowan
"Idon't get it, Caitlyn," Ace ground out at the dinner table. "Carla has her recital on Friday."
"I can't help when my friend's bachelorette party is, Ace," Caitlyn whined. Nails on a chalkboard.
Deb was in Montana for a summer gala bullshit hosted by the governor, so Ace asked me to come to the main house for dinner.
I usually stayed put in my cabin if Caitlyn was around. I saw the girls when I could, but I didn't pretend to care to be in their mother's company. I kept my peace with her as much as I could because she was vindictive enough to keep the girls away from me.
It would hurt me, yes, but it wounded the kids more. They loved Montana. They loved the ranch. They went to school here and had friends here. They had a nanny who made sure they got ready on time for school and were fed proper meals, since Caitlyn would not do that. She'd grown up with a nanny, and this was just how she was raising her kids.
Whenever I could, I dropped them off and picked them up at school or from their after-school activities. I loved it because I got exclusive time with them, and I knew what was going on in their lives. When they had exams. Who was being mean at school. How their grades were. Which teachers they liked and who they didn't. How were the piano lessons going? Why was the soccer coach unfair?
Once in a while, Ace tried to be a decent dad and do the school runs and spend time with the girls, but he got distracted easily with golf games and hanging out with friends. He was the same age as Isha, yet they were so markedly different. She was a hands-on mother. She worked so incredibly hard to provide for her little family. Ace had a useless job that paid him a shit ton of money. His wife was usually gallivanting with her friends and other society bimbos. His kids spent more time with their nanny and me than their parents.
"You're so fucking selfish, Caitlyn," Ace remarked.
I was glad the girls had eaten earlier and weren't here for this fight, though they saw plenty of others. I talked to them about it and tried to help them navigate their feelings, but I wasn't a therapist. I worried that I was probably fucking it up, as I did so many other things that didn't have to do with the ranch.
