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My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I feel a glimmer of hope, though the glimmer of hope is slashed when I see Samantha’s name displayed on the screen. Damn my father for giving her my contact details, seeing as I had to deal with the inconvenience of changing my number two years ago when we broke up.
I slide my finger across the screen. “Now isn’t a good time,” I say and hang up.
The drive seems to take longer than usual. It’s as though everyone is purposely driving slower so I have more time to wallow in my misery. The white clouds that hang in the sky gradually turn to grey, and large droplets of rain splash down on the windshield.
When the car pulls up outside my Surrey estate, the sky is black and angry with the promise of an impending storm. Rain pelts around me as I make my way to the front door. My white shirt is wet through and clings to me when I step into the hallway. I look around the vast space and realise how empty it is.
I take a deep breath in and get the subtle whiff of her. No matter which room I go in, her scent is all around me. So much so that I have Bessie make up one of the spare rooms for me to sleep in tonight because I can’t bear the thought of sleeping in a bed that smells like her.
I had it all—the promise of owning a successful business, the girl, and billions in the bank. But it’s irrelevant now. My business is there to make me more money, but money has no value if I don’t have someone to enjoy it with.
I make my way to my office, and it’s here I find Josh sitting at my desk.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask.
“Waiting for you to return, of course.”
I suck in my bottom lip. “It’s over, Josh. Chelsea and me, we’re over.”
I expect Josh to make a comment about our relationship not being real in the first place. But to my surprise, he says nothing and instead pulls out my secret bottle of Scotch I have stashed in the bottom drawer.
“Where would I be without you, cousin?” I ask as Josh fills two glasses.
Josh hands me a glass and raises his to his lips. “I dread to think. I’ve got your back, Lucian, and I will get you through this the same way I got you through the breakup with Samantha.”
We talk and drink for hours. We drink until the bottle is dry and I have to get another from the wine cellar. Josh is asleep face down on my desk when I return. Instead of waking him and escorting him to one of the guest bedrooms, I leave him. I walk from room to room drinking vodka from the bottle.
I take this time to drunkenly ponder my life and wonder where it all went so wrong. Everything was fine until Chelsea decided to ride Jupiter. I squeeze my fingers around the neck of the bottle.
Jupiter.
Without a moment of hesitation, I head out into the gardens. I don’t stop walking as the wind howls and rain pelts against my face. I don’t stop as lightning lights up the night sky and thunder booms in the distance. I don’t stop until I am standing directly in front of Jupiter’s stable.
I can make out the horse’s silhouette as she makes her way toward me. “You let me down, old girl,” I say. Jupiter neighs as thunder booms. “What am I going to do with you? You can’t be fixed, can’t be saddlebroken. You don’t want to be ridden. You don’t want me to love you, protect you, or make you happy.” I shake my head. “What the hell do you want?”
Jupiter rears back. Flashes of lightning illuminate the stables, and it’s now I see the deep-rooted fear in her eyes. It’s a look I’ve seen many times but until now failed to recognise. They say that animals, like humans, grieve. Perhaps she has not yet got over the death of my mother and is scared of getting attached to another rider. Maybe fear is the reason she is the way she is.
I’ve been so blind.
“Jupiter, I’m sorry,” I say and, opening the stable door, make my way inside. She backs off as I approach. I keep walking until I have her cornered and I place my palm on the bridge of her nose. It surprises me how calm she is, though the calmness dissolves when lightning strikes again. I back off, giving her the space she needs.
“You were always terrified of storms,” I say, sitting on a large bale of hay. “I remember how Mother would join you in the stables and sing to you for hours. Now I don’t have much of a singing voice, but I have a classical playlist saved on my phone you might appreciate.”
I pull the device from my trouser pocket. My body shakes from the cold and rainwater drips from my hair onto the screen as I flick through trying to locate the playlist. With shaky hands I click on the first song.
An incoming call flashes on my screen, and Samantha’s name appears. I swipe my finger across. “Now isn’t a good time,” I say, about to cut the call.
“Don’t hang up.”
I flash a glance at Jupiter and back to my phone. “You have two seconds. Make them count.”
“Josh told me you and Chelsea split up.”
“It would seem good news travels fast,” I muse.
“My thoughts exactly. Now, as to the reason I called. I have great news, Lucian.” She pauses, and when I say nothing, she continues. “Okay, I’ll come right out and say it. I am the proud owner of Freesdon Hall.”
“Great,” I say, my tone dripping with boredom.
