Page 53 of Passion and Privilege

The vulnerability in Paisley’s words struck a chord within me. Her concern for Timothy’s well-being and her unspoken desire for a stable family life tugged at my heart. I remembered wanting the same for my dad. I hated that he was all alone. I used to dream about him marrying again and giving me a new mom.

“Paisley, sometimes people need a little push to realize what they truly want. Maybe Timothy needs that push too. He went through a hard time after the divorce. I’m not sure he’s ready to remarry. But I do know he loves you. When I first started working on the house, he pulled us off our projects to get your room ready. That was his priority. He wanted to make sure you were going to be comfortable.”

She looked at me, genuine fear in her eyes. “What if he doesn’t want me to stay?”

“He wants you to stay,” I said. “I know that. He’s said as much. This thing is really hard on him. I think you know how much he loves you.”

Her hands were tightly clenched into fists on her lap. “He has so much money,” she said. “I don’t understand why he can’t buy my mom off.”

“I don’t know if that’s really an option,” I said. “I don’t know your mother, but I think it’s complicated.”

She didn’t say anything else. We pulled through the gate and parked my beat-up old truck in the driveway. We went inside and Paisley immediately retreated to her room. I quietly climbed the stairs up to my room. The whole situation was unfortunate. I wished there was a way to fix it for them both, but I was just the carpenter. Their problems went way beyond me.

I climbed into bed and tried to go to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about Timothy and everything he had said. First, I fell for a guy that was a cheating scumbag. Then, I fell for a guy that had zero intentions of ever settling down. I was batting a thousand.

After tossing and turning, I resigned myself to the fact that sleep was elusive. I quietly made my way downstairs to the kitchen, hoping a hot cup of tea would help lull me into sleep.

I rounded the corner and saw a light on in the kitchen. I frowned, wondering if it was Paisley after a midnight snack. When I walked in, it wasn’t Paisley. Timothy stood in front of the open fridge with a glass of scotch in his hand. I stopped, ready to turn around and leave before he saw me. I was a guest in his house. I didn’t want to intrude.

He turned around when he heard my footsteps, then closed the refrigerator and offered a smile. “Craving a snack?” he asked.

“Actually, I was going to make myself a cup of tea.”

He held up his glass. “I think this is a better cure for a sleepless night.”

I laughed. “I think I’ll pass. I have to work in the morning. Do you mind if I make some tea?”

“Suit yourself,” he said, shrugging.

He moved away from the fridge. I filled the teakettle and turned on the stove. He leaned against the cool granite of the kitchen island, watching me as I moved around.

“Paisley went straight to her room?” he asked.

I nodded. “She’s worried about you, you know,” I said softly.

“Me? Why would she worry about me?” He seemed genuinely surprised, his eyebrows knitting together in thought.

“She thinks you’re lonely,” I said.

Timothy’s expression softened. “I suppose that’s part of the reason why she wants to stay.”

“It might be,” I agreed, turning off the stove as the teakettle whistled a merry tune. “But I think it goes deeper than that. She also wants to be with you because she feels seen by you, loved by you. You matter to her a lot.”

Timothy went quiet, swirling the scotch before he took a drink.

I shouldn’t butt in, but I couldn’t resist asking. “Why have you never considered remarriage?” I asked. “Do you think everyone is like your ex-wife? Do you think I’m like her?”

He looked at me for several long seconds before he put his glass down.

“I know you are not like my ex-wife,” he said in a husky voice.

“Why did you kiss me like that at the wedding?” I whispered. “Why did you offer to go and play that part if you had no intention of pursuing anything further? Why the dress and jewelry and all of that? Was it all just a game to you?”

A flicker of heat ignited behind his eyes as he stepped closer. “That was way more than a kiss and you know it,” he said.

“I don’t know anything,” I replied.

“We’re on dangerous ground,” he warned. “I’ve been trying to stay out of your way the entire time you’ve been here. Your presence in the house sets me on edge. I’m trying to protect myself from the complicated emotions you bring up.”