I needed to permit the directors sense authority, she explained. You disappeared, Ethan countered. I was endeavoring to shield the larger view…
Was I excluded from that view? She neared. Naturally you are. He averted.
Feels like I’m merely the instrument you employ when convenient. That’s unjust. And neither is involving my son in something that elicits ridicule at academy.
Quietude. Then Olivia murmured, so what do you desire? Ethan expelled, agony etched across his countenance. I desire to suffice. Sans requiring your funds. Sans being your virtuous act.
She appeared devastated. He exited.
A complete week elapsed. No messages. No summons. Ethan avoided returning to the estate. He resumed mending faulty grass cutters in his plot.
The workshop remained secured, its implements idle. Mason queried once, are we returning to the site with the ponies? Ethan merely negated. Not presently, pal.
Verity was, he yearned for her. Intensely. But he was a gentleman reared to endure gales. Not solicited to be rescued from them.
Then, one dawn, a rap at the entrance. Ethan unlatched it. And there she was. Saturated in precipitation anew. No chauffeur. No limousine. Just Olivia. Clasping a modest container and trembling like that initial evening they encountered.
I didn’t arrive to amend with currency. She stated, tone unprocessed. I arrived because I miss you. Not your abilities. Not your palms. You.
Ethan remained silent. His gaze descended to the container in her grasp. She unveiled it gradually…
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