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They’d sat me down in this very room and, instead of doling out a list of rules and things they expected from me, they had listened to me talk. Their quiet concern had opened something inside me, and everything about my past had come spilling out.
Despite everything, Douglass and Melanie made me feel safe in a world that had only proven me otherwise.
And now, it was only me.
All the people I’d loved had either betrayed me, or died.
What Douglass and Melanie had tried to give me failed—the world was never safe, and I would always be alone.
“Rook.” The low voice broke me from my dark thoughts. It was Hawke Thornfield, a professor at the nearby Netherveil University.
Like me, he had the luxury of choosing his job based on personal preference, rather than financial obligation.
“I’m leaving.” With rakish dark brown hair, thick black framed glasses, and a bespoke tweed suit, his overall demeanor conveyed the image of rogue intellectualism. His focused stare was intense and calculating, as if searching for a hidden meaning beyond the obvious. He was one of the smartest, and most dangerous, men I’d ever known.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Feeling sentimental?”
I pressed my lips into a thin line, trying to decide if I should answer him.
Hawke was one of the few associates I confided in. And yet, trusted men could easily become your worst enemies; I had enough proof of this to last a lifetime.
“Yes.” I decided long ago that honesty was always the smarter choice when it came to Hawke, as he likely knew the answer anyway. He was merely giving me the courtesy to voice it. “This will probably be the last time I will ever be here. I’m…” I swirled the remainder of my whiskey, considering my next words, “reflecting.” Remembering the one time in my life I truly felt alive.
He studied me a bit longer, his gaze moving from the tie I’d loosened at my neck, to the glass of whiskey in my hands, to the fireplace where, over the mantel, was placed an ornately framed photo of the family.
It was from when Melanie was still alive—the four of them. Not sitting stiffly in a stuffy studio, but rather on a boat on the Atlantic Ocean. Wearing swimsuits and large smiles, Summer was proudly displaying a large fish for the cameraman.
My heart ached when I looked at that photo. Both effusive love for the couple who gave so much in return, and yet, a deep and intense longing.
Ever since I went off to college, and with the Magnolia’s involvement in our lives, Douglass and I decided that it was better for me to remain anonymous to the girls.
It was a lonely existence. Living just on the edge of the family, somewhat included, but never actually belonging.
“Some people think that the only way to happiness is by living in the present.” Hawke leaned against the doorway, staying just outside my private space. “But I don’t believe that. If we don’t look forward, we react to the power of others, instead of designing our own lives. And, if we don’t look to the past, we cannot find peace with it.” He straightened, casually sliding his hands into his pockets, revealing the pistol tucked into the holster on his hip. “But don’t be a prisoner to the past or future, either. We have the privilege to form the past into a life that we want. Do what you need to do, then move on.”
Sometimes, I really hated this asshole.
“Sounds like a fairy tale,” I remarked. “Some of us are shackled to our history. And in my future, there is nothing but revenge for past wrongs. Moving on has a high price tag.”
“Then pay it.”
His words hitting something inside me, I stilled. Then nodded, thinking.
He was right.
There was no point in brooding.
Tonight, I would warn Summer away from this place. Tell her to collect her inheritance and sell Darkmoor Manor.
It would be easy—Summer was smart. There was a small fortune waiting for her and Callie—they could go anywhere they wanted.
Summer hadn’t lived here in a long time, and I was sure she wasn’t attached to this place.
Not like me.
I was the only one who had to say goodbye to a place I loved.
“Although, sometimes, loneliness is the tax for loving others,” Hawke interrupted my thoughts, his eyes on the family photo. “The price we pay for an awareness of the world as it really is.”
