Chapter 8

For the first two weeks, I kept waking in the middle of the night.

I didn’t dream about the wedding.

I dreamed about the instant the necklace fell from Sienna’s hand.

Every time I reached for it, I was a second too late.

Declan never entered my room without permission.

If he heard me, he would ask through the door, “Would you like the light on?”

If I said no, his footsteps would retreat.

One night, I opened the door and found him sitting at the end of the hall, a book open on his lap. He had barely read any of it.

“You don’t have to do this.”

He looked up.

“Do what?”

“Watch over me like I might shatter at any moment.”

Declan closed the book.

“Then come sit down and tell me what you’d like to do tomorrow.”

I went over and sat a few feet away.

“Find somewhere I can practice the piano.”

“All right.”

“And take the necklace in for repairs.”

“All right.”

I looked at him.

“Nothing else to say?”

“One thing,” he said. “Would you rather go alone tomorrow, or would you like me to come?”

Gradually, I began to understand.

It wasn’t that he wanted nothing. He was leaving the choice to me.

I started practicing again. I visited my mother’s old friends in Europe and began attending the video meetings my attorney arranged.

The Carter family’s management agreement was more complicated than I had realized.

After taking over, Julian had folded several business interests into Moretti companies. The paperwork had to be checked and checked again.

I couldn’t recover everything overnight.

But I could begin taking back the right to make decisions.

William cooperated and provided the original agreement.

Several of my father’s old men were finally able to speak to me directly, without going through Julian.

One told me that after the dinner, Moretti representatives had actually asked whether they wanted to keep “following an emotionally unstable woman.”

I ended the call and sat there for a long time.

Declan didn’t curse Julian on my behalf.

He simply put a business proposal on the table, already reviewed by attorneys.

“You can say no. And if there’s anything you don’t like in the terms, we can change it.”

I turned to the last page.

No marriage agreement. No requirement to transfer shares.

“Why help me?”

He looked at me.

“Because I want you to stay. Not because I want to make it impossible for you to leave.”

In the second month, the repaired necklace came back.

The broken chain had been replaced. The missing section of the iris had been restored, though a faint line remained if you looked closely.

I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, trying to put it on.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Declan stood in the doorway without coming in.

“Would you like some help?”

I nodded.

He stepped behind me and took the clasp, careful not to touch my injury.

The moment it was fastened, he stepped away.

Looking at his reflection, I suddenly turned.

“You once told me you’d treat me well.”

Something shifted in his eyes.

“That hasn’t changed.”

For the first time, I reached for his hand.

Meanwhile, my signed documents were arriving in New York.

Julian was at sea. The attorney’s call was passed to the assistant traveling with him.

At the sound of my name, Sienna looked up from the sofa.

“What does she want now?”

The assistant hesitantly explained that the documents concerned the dissolution of the marriage and the transfer of assets.

Julian held out his hand.

He flipped straight to the signature page without reading the accompanying explanations closely.

“Isn’t she just trying to make me come back and beg?”

Sienna said nothing.

He picked up a pen and signed.

“Tell her I’m not cutting my trip short over this.”

When the documents came back, my attorney specifically asked whether I still wanted to go ahead.

I looked out the window.

Declan was helping the gardener move an old swing beneath a tree because I had mentioned, just the day before, that my mother used to have one in her garden.

“Yes,” I said.