“He’s here. He… he found us. He found me.”
“He arrived,” Heath said calmly. “There’s a difference.”
She blinked at him, confused. “Why do you sound so…” She broke off, visibly trying to steady herself. “Where is he?”
Heath turned toward the study doors. “Come. Wait in here. I will bring him to you.”
As he ushered his wife into the room and closed the door behind her, he turned, and Gooldwer was standing right in front of him.
“You can’t keep her from me.”
“Why have you interrupted the evening as such?”
“I was just sitting there, and saw her pass by. Figured it would be a good time.”
Self-serving. Obnoxious. Clueless. Piece of?—
“Papa?” he heard as the door pushed open.
The man stood with false pretense and pride. His figure shadowed, and while his expression was carefully composed, Heath saw the tremor in his hands. The way the man’s eyes darted past his daughter to the room beyond—as if already calculating his next move.
Blanche sidestepped Heath and flew into her father’s arms with the force of months unlived. Her embrace was raw, unfiltered, foolish in its purity.
Heath remained at the door, silent. Watching as the scene unfolded. The exact opposite of what he had planned to happen.
Gooldwer clutched her tightly, but his eyes flicked toward Heath. “I didn’t know if you’d let me see her,” he said, voice low, almost reverent.
“I didn’t bring you here for me,” Heath replied. “She deserves the choice. Let’s move inside the study. Now.”
Blanche pulled back slightly, her hands still on her father’s arms. “Why now?” she asked. “Why tonight?”
Gooldwer hesitated, his eyes flicking up to meet Heath’s before he nodded and guided them both inside the room as he answered her. “Because I couldn’t stay away any longer. I’ve made mistakes, Blanche. But I never stopped thinking of you.”
Heath said nothing. He didn’t need to. The room was thick with the weight of what was about to unfold. He shut the door to the study behind him and stood patiently, waiting for his wife’s fury.
Blanche’s gaze flicked to Heath, searching. “Youknew?”
He inclined his head once. “Of course, I knew. I invited him.”
Her breath hitched. “How long?”
“A few days.”
She turned fully toward him now, her father’s hands falling away. “And you didn’t tell me.”
“No,” Heath said. “I didn’t.”
There was no apology in his voice. Only truth.
Blanche’s brows drew together. “Why?”
He met her gaze evenly, but refused to respond.
She stared at him, her expression fraught with anger, betrayal, and sadness. Then, slowly, she turned back to her father.
Gooldwer stepped forward, voice soft. “I’ve changed, Blanche. I know I failed you. But I want to make amends. I want to be part of your life again.”
Heath watched her shoulders tense. She wanted to believe him. That much was clear.
