Chapter 12
She hadn’t expected Quentin to come looking for her, much less so quickly. Quentin had always been the type to put his career above everything else. She remembered all too well the time she’d had a dangerously high fever and needed someone to take her to the hospital. Quentin had been in his study, buried in paperwork as usual. Even when she’d collapsed from the fever, he’d spared only three seconds to call for medical help. Not once did he get up from his desk, not al single word of concern passed his lips..
That’s why Fiona found it almost impossible to believe that this same man had abandoned the chaos at his company back home to track her down halfway across the country. It didn’t fit with everything she knew about him.
“Come home with me.” Quentin’s face was an expressionless mask, but his tone.
carried an unmistakable steel of determination.
Fiona bristled at his commanding tone, her brows drawing together in annoyance.
“This is my home now.”
Her cold, distant response struck him like a physical blow. The memory of her final
glance before leaving flashed through his mind, along with that gut–wrenching feeling of loss that had haunted him since. Now he finally understood exactly what he’d lost the sweet, sometimes childish Fiona who used to chatter endlessly and
follow him around with such devotion.
–
A sudden, crushing sensation gripped his chest, making him desperate to grasp at anything – the air around him, the woman before him anything to stop this feeling of everything slipping away.
“Fiona, stop this nonsense. I know you saw the security footage, but it wasn’t what you think. Those things I said… they were just thoughtless words spoken in anger.” For the first time in anyone’s memory, Quentin Sherwood lowered his head, his voice thick with genuine remorse. “I’m sorry, Fiona. I’ve been too caught up in work lately, and I neglected your feelings. I promise it won’t happen again. You have to believe me – no matter what, my love for you has always been real. I never
meant to hurt you!”
1/3
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The words shanked even him as they left his mouth. He’d arrived readytoumleast his funy, determined to teach Fiona a lesson about the proper behavor expected Mrs. Sherwoord. But the moment he saw her, all that anger evaporated. He found himself completely unable to voice a single word of reproach to that familiar face Fiona’s laughwas hollow, tinged with equal parts indifference and muckery.” “Don pretend to the so deeply in love, Quentin. I know you only marriedtimeout of obligation, mat love. That’s why I’m stepping aside – so you cambre with Daisy.”
To Quentin’s ears, her words sounded more like a hurt child’s tantrumtthan a
genuine goodbye.
He let out a heavy sigh, his words dripping with self–deniall.
“Fiona, stop saying things out of anger.”
“I know why you ran away from the wedding–it was togethback at me, wasn’t it? To grab my attention? Deep down, you still care about me. You love me so much. tthat you’re acting out because I’ve been neglecting you lately. That’s why you’re doing all this.”
“It’s okay, I’ll forgive you. Just come back with me, and you’ll be Mrs. Sherwood again. I’ll take care of all the problems. And Daisy…I pay more attention to that
situation too.”
Fiona stared at Quentin, speechless in the face of this astounding self–assurance.
Her mind drifted back to her younger years, tottimes when she’d been less wise
about matters of the heart.
Back then, she’d done everything to get Quentin’s attention. She’d cried, thrown emotional fits, even run away from home–all desperate attempts to make him
(care, to make him see her..
But no matter what she did, Quentim halalways watched from the sidelines with
cold indifference, completely unmovedi.
He never tried to comfort her, never sailed her, never even showed anger.
Instead, he’d simply wait, unboitierent, expecting Fiona to eventually return with a apology on her lips..
12
After enough repetitions of this painful dance, Fiona had learned her lesson. She’d
grown up.
And now, in this moment, she’d matured to the point where she no longer needed Quentin in her life.
So, with the detachment of an outside observer, she spoke softly:
“If it’s true love, it should be able to overcome any obstacle, right? These little difficulties you’re facing now–they’re nothing. I’m sure you and Daisy can work through them.”
“But Quentin…” she paused, her voice gentle but firm, “now that you’ve gotten what you wanted, why are you crying in front of me?”
Quentin froze.
He lifted his hand to his face, only now realizing that tears were rolling down his cheeks.
He stared at the glistening droplets on his fingertips in disbelief.
Him? Crying?
For Fiona?
While he stood there, lost in his shock, Fiona slammed the door shut.
The thunderous bang made the tears on his fingertips quiver twice before silently shattering, much like the illusions he’d built around their relationship.
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