“People assumed I couldn’t hack it. That I flaked out on college. But the truth is... my mom took everything. Every penny he’d saved. Racked up credit in both his name and mine that she lived off of without us knowing. The worst part is that he still doesn’t know. I found out through a financial advisor we had hired to manage his care. He takes so much pride in the little money he has left, that he saved up just for me. So I couldn’t leave, even if I wanted to. I had to work. I had to pay for everything.”
West’s mouth opened, but then closed again. He looked down, probably unsure what to say.
Despite the heaviness of the story, I cracked a joke, hoping it eased the tension. “Guess you’re my therapist now too. Lucky you.”
His lips curved into a small smile, but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to.
“I’m doing all this for him,” I added, my voice quieter now. “Not you. Not me. Did I picture owning a dive bar with questionable lighting and cracks in the foundation? No. But Fiddlers has good bones. It’s allowed me to stay close. Even with Jeff being shitty and the Murphy brothers making me want to throw hands, Fiddlers has provided for us. That’s what matters.”
He nodded slowly. Like he got it. Like maybe we weren’t so different after all. “Seems as though we are both driven by the love we have for our fathers.”
After dinner, we cleaned up in near silence. A heavy, comfortable silence. One that felt like maybe we’d just moved from married strangers to something more human.
I sank into a chair by the window while West turned off all the lights. He knelt beside me, his arm brushing mine lightly as he leaned on the windowsill.
“When the lights are off,” he said, “you can see the moon over the lake without the glare.”
I smiled, feeling the calm settle over me.
We sat like that for a few minutes. Watching ripples on the water, pretending life was simple. For a moment, I wanted to be angry again that this house wasn’t mine. I could have spent so many evenings sitting in that exact spot, decompressing from the long days on my feet.
“You know,” he said, bumping my shoulders playfully as if he could read my mind, “technically, this is your house right now.” I rolled my eyes, but he held up a hand. “Seriously. When you’re not at Fiddlers, and if your dad’s doing okay... there’s no reason you can’t come here. Recharge. Be alone. Change out Tammy’s pillow choices.”
I laughed, turning away, but he gently caught my chin and turned me back.
“I mean it, Blue. I know this marriage isn’t forever. But it is real. And you deserve peace. Even if it’s just for a few quiet hours.”
Then he stood, walked to the hallway, and paused just before turning the corner.
“You’re set up in the room at the end of the hall. I’ve got to get some work done before I turn in.”
I smiled. That room was supposed to be mine. The main room had been going to be for Dad. It overlooked the lake. He’d have loved it. And I loved that while I was there, I got to sleep in the room that I had mentally claimed while walking through it that first time with the realtor.
I sat for a few more minutes, letting the quiet soak into my skin, and then I went to bed. I’d need all the sleep I could get to face his family.
And lie straight to their faces.
Chapter Twenty-Four
WEST
My nightmares weren’t constant,but they were always lurking. Sharing my penthouse was different from the small lake house. The penthouse had distance and solid cement walls that kept the sound of my misery away from guests. The lake house was more confined, and if I drifted to sleep too deeply, there was a chance Blue would be awakened by a secret no one but me, and God himself, knew about.
Which meant I barely slept.
By the time Blue woke up, I was eating a yogurt at the kitchen counter and scrolling through emails. She looked cozy in soft joggers and a zip-up jacket that screamed heat stroke but was probably the perfect thing to wear when traveling.
“Don’t tell me you wear the suit even on a plane,” she teased.
I smiled. “It’s all I own.”
She rolled her eyes, pouring herself a cup of coffee and watching me with mock suspicion. “I slept like this house should be mine.”
I couldn’t help the grin tugging at my mouth. Damn, she was cute when she was sassy.
“Careful,” I said, tipping my head toward her. “You never know when I will start handing over the keys and putting your name on the mailbox.”
“Absolutely not,” she pushed at me, making me laugh harder. “Last thing I need is this town thinking I was after your real estate portfolio in all this. The bar is going to be hard enough to explain as it is.”
