“I thought he might. He scared me. But I haven’t seen him since. He’s intense, but I don’t think he’ll violate a restraining order.”
Calder doesn’t look as if he believes me. His jaw is set, his shoulders rigid.
“I swear, if he lays a hand on you—”
“He won’t. I won’t let him.”
Calder doesn’t look so sure. “I’ll act as a witness if you need one. At the very least I’ll go to the hearing with you.”
His concern stirs something in me, and I reach over and grab his hand again.
“This is the first time you and I have seen each other in months. Do we have to talk about Garrett?”
His eyes darken, and he twists his hand to tighten his fingers around my own.
“You’re right,” he says. "I have more important things to say. I need to formally apologize. For everything. The letter I sent wasn't nearly enough. I've wanted to talk to you for so long. I've been thinking about you ever since you stormed away from me that day. But I didn't think you wanted to hear from me, and the longer I went without hearing anything from you, the more I believed it.
"I sent the letter in desperation one day when I couldn't take the guilt anymore. I tried to justify my horrible behavior to myself and to you, but in the end I'm afraid I just made everything worse. I thought about sending another letter, excusing the first, or calling you, or even just showing up here—but I didn't want to turn into another stalker ex-lover of yours."
I force a half-smile.
"Your text message gave me hope," he continues. "I wanted to see you again, to explain everything. When I didn't get a response, I—I couldn't sleep last night, thinking about it. I knew I'd go crazy if I couldn't talk to you. And so I came here."
I look at him across the table. No one, seeing his face right now, could doubt his sincerity. I want to forgive him, I do, but there's more we have to settle.
"I need to apologize to you, too," I say. "I've realized since I left you how selfishly I behaved, demanding that money from you. If I'd have known—"
"It's not your fault you didn't know," he interjects. "It's mine. I had a dozen chances to tell you."
"Still, I should have respected your decision. And I shouldn’t have judged you without knowing the full story." I look down again at our hands, and he gives me a reassuring squeeze. "I just want you to know, that—that everything that happened between us… it wasn't about the money. You were right. The money was just an excuse, a reason for me to, to…” I feel my cheeks go hot, and suddenly I don't want to be sitting at this table anymore. I try to stand, but Calder keeps his grip on my hands and pulls me back down.
"And I want you to know," he says, his voice low and gravely, "that you weren't just a distraction for me."
I open my mouth to reply, but my response dies on my tongue beneath the intensity of his gaze.
"That's another reason I'm here," he says. "I wanted to see if maybe you would let me take you out sometime."
The question is so absurd after everything that's happened that I break out laughing. His face darkens, and I quickly rush to reassure him.
"I'm just surprised. I don't mean—I mean, I don't—I didn't…” My cheeks are on fire now, and I don't know where to look.
"Lily."
I force myself to look him in the eyes. My stomach is in knots, and I can feel my pulse beating in my ears.
"You're allowed to say no," he tells me softly.
"No!" I say quickly. "I mean—no, I don't want to say no."
The look on his face makes my heart swell in my chest. Before I can say anything else, he stands and pulls me into his arms.
"You don't know how happy you've made me.” His hands twine in my hair. "I know I'm not a sexy billionaire anymore, but I hope I have a few other redeeming qualities."
"Money or not, you're still sexy," I assure him. I gaze up at him through my lashes.
He laughs and tugs me closer. "So I have a chance, then?"
"Perhaps."
His mouth finds mine, and heat rushes through me, as intense as it was two months ago. I could melt into him all over again, right here, right now.
But he breaks away from me.
"Will you come out to the estate, just one last time? I’m almost done moving out, but there's something I want you to see first."
I look up at him. After everything that happened, I never expected him to show up at my door, much less ask to continue our little romance. I have no idea what will happen between us in the coming months, but I'm willing to take the chance on that sweet smile of his and that wicked gleam in his eye.
"Come on," I say, and give him another kiss. "I want you to show me everything."
CHAPTER TWENTY
The house looks different, now that most of the furniture and décor is gone. It's lifeless and dead, and I wonder if seeing it like this makes it harder or easier for Calder to say goodbye.
He takes me straight to the gallery. This room, with its high, empty walls, looks even more desolate than the rest of the house. The ornate wallpaper has faded in patches, and it's clear that some of the artwork was here for years and years.
There's only one painting now, and it's leaning against the wall about halfway down the room. When we get closer, I see it's the Ludlam piece I admired the last time I was here.
"I didn't let them sell this one," Calder says. "I want you to have it."
I gape at him. "I—I can't accept this."
"You can. I see the way you look at it. You love this painting, more than anyone who might buy it. It's yours."
"Calder, I—"
"If you won't take it now, then I'll keep it with me until you're ready to take it. I'm not selling it. It belongs to you."
My eyes start to burn, and I turn away, not wanting him to see me tear up. He comes up behind me and gently rubs my shoulders.
"You deserve it," he says softly. "For putting up with me, if nothing else. You don't have to keep it, if you don't want to. You could sell it and use the money to help the Center. It's not much, but I wanted to do something, after all this.”
Something swells in my chest, and I turn and face him. How did I ever believe he was a selfish asshole? I reach up and brush my fingers along his cheek.
But that reminds me of something else.
“What about your favorite piece?” I say. “You didn’t sell that one, did you?” I can’t bear to think that he kept the Ludlam for me but gave up the painting he most admired.