“No, I don’t want it,” I argue. “You keep it on.”
His helmet visor masks his expression, but I sense irritability as he pulls his jacket over his shoulders.
I don’t care if I’ve annoyed him. He’s not well, and I don’t want him riding unprotected.
During the ride across Mountains Road, I hate every second I hold on to him. Why couldn’t I convince him to enter the hospital? Why did I let him walk away from their help?
Ugh. I’m so stupid!
Dax takes us onto the Ashworth Estate via the service entrance and parks in the maintenance shed. I watch every step he makes toward the pool house.
“Go inside,” I tell him as we near the pool. “I need to change and get my laptop.”
My mood has plummeted as I enter the manor. I’m so grateful to have Dax here, but what does this mean for his health?
I remind myself; I don’t own him.
After I snagged clothes from Christie’s closet, I asked Claudia to dig out casual outfits from storage. It’s where my out-of-season items go before donation drives. Neatly folded in my drawer is a super comfy black and pink tracksuit. I change into it, quickly brush my hair, and carry my laptop out of my bedroom.
Unwilling to waste another moment away from Dax, I jog down the stairs, which lead to the rear of the manor.
“Vanessa,” my mother’s voice calls before I can escape down the hall. Her stilettos clip-clop on her approach. “Where are you going?”
With my feet in sandals, she towers over me. “Out.”
She looks me up and down. “I hardly think so.”
“Did you want something, Mother?”
“What was that crack at the country club?”
I trip over my feet to get some space between us. “Huh?”
“Theentanglement.”
I steady my footing. “You know exactly what I was talking about.”
“How on earth did you figure it was appropriate to say it in front of company?”
My insides quiver. “How did you think I felt seeing it in person?”
Mom glances away. “You know you weren’t meant to see anything.”
“But I did,” I hiss. “And I haven’t said a word.”
With a grateful smile, Mom strokes my hair. “Oh, my good girl.”
I jerk my head away. “Dad deserves to know.”
“I’m not here to have that discussion.”
“Then why are you here?”
“For my children.”
I choke on my breath, stunned by her answer.
“Why aren’t you dressed for dinner?”
