Page 83 of Temporary Vows

Then I exhale slowly, my mind already pushing the encounter aside.

There are more important things to deal with.

Jack Harper is not one of them.

He stopped being one of them a long time ago.

His sister, on the other hand, is at the top of the list.

My soon-to-bewife.

Chapter 19

Elodie

The house is quieter now.

Night fell a few hours ago.

Most of the staff have gone, and my boxes are all in my room, mostly unpacked. The day seems to have reached that natural pause where everything stops and takes a breath.

Skylar left before nightfall. Surprisingly, we had quite a good day.

Dorian has three members of staff—Joanne and Vanessa, who cook and keep the house clean, and Albert, who brought me the contract. He takes care of everything else.

When Skylar and I went downstairs to explore the house, Albert gave us a tour that took nearly two hours, not surprising for a seven-bedroom mansion with an Olympic-sized infinity pool, a tennis court, a private beach, and a sailboat.

Even thinking about all of it makes my mind trip.

Now, though, my surroundings are… still.

I’ve been in my room sorting through my things since Skylar left. Joanne offered to help me unpack, but I insisted on doing it myself. It’s been a good distraction. Almost therapeutic. I’ve kept the lights low, the double doors open so the sea breeze can drift in, and the radio playing softly in the background.

I thought maybe I could get some work done until Dorian came home. That’s if he was coming home at all. I have no idea. I still haven’t spoken to him. Every communication from him has come in the form of a message from either Albert or Joanne.

It’s okay. I guess I won’t see him tonight. Maybe it’s for the best to give us both some space—or ratherme. I suppose it also helps us get used to living separate lives. Even though we always did.

I just wanted to see him to get a better idea of what is happening. I go back to work in two days, and I want to know if we’re doing anything this week. I suppose I’ll find out eventually.

We live in the same house now. It’s not like I won’t see him at all.

I close the box I’m packing and stand. It’s filled with all the things I don’t need. Things from the past. Things I should probably throw away but can’t bring myself to.

Like the old, battered gardening glove that belonged to my mother.

There’s a massive hole in it, and it’s always looked like something that should have been thrown away. But I keep it because I think it still smells like her.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling really low, I find it, look at it, and it cheers me up.

At that thought, I take it out of the box and place it back in the one I want to keep in the room.

Mom may not be with me in the flesh, but I feel like I need all the help I can get over the next few weeks. And if that means keeping something close that still carries her scent, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

I head out of the room and make my way to the attic. Albert told me to put whatever I don’t need up there.

I step onto the landing and glance over the balcony to see if he’s still around. He said he’d be leaving at around ten.Apparently, he’s always the last to leave the house at the end of the day and the first to arrive in the morning.

I wondered why Dorian didn’t just let him live here. Then I was told Dorian liked his privacy, so the staff were only here between seven in the morning and ten at night.