Page 183 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

This is obligation coming to collect its debt.

I feel Greyson go still beside me.

He follows my gaze.

His body tightens like a guard dog catching scent.

“Clara?” Greyson murmurs beside me, low and careful.

I don’t answer right away.

Because for one split second, I’m not the woman in the yellow dress at an art opening.

I’m the daughter who left home abruptly.

The fiancée who detonated a wedding.

The girl who stopped answering.

Geoffrey’s eyes find mine across the room.

That smile.

The one he uses in boardrooms and charity galas. Triumphant.

Like he’s here to rescue me from myself.

And then my mother’s gaze lands on me.

On the dress.

On my hand in Greyson’s.

On the way I’m standing close to him—not clinging, not shrinking—just steady.

Her expression shifts.

Surprise first.

Then confusion.

Then something like concern.

Not disapproval.

Concern.

My stomach twists for a completely different reason.

Because I know that look.

It’s the one she gets when she thinks I’m hurting and not telling her.

My father’s eyes move from Geoffrey to me to Greyson and back again.

He doesn’t look angry.

He looks wary.