77 Gifts, Guilt, and Guarded Words
Dinner that evening was an intimate affair with st Uncle Victor, Gran, Cora, and me. Aunt Amelia had been dyed in Paris but would arrive the following morning.
“I’ll call if anythinges up,” I said, filling the awkward silence.
Her bottom lip jutted out in the beginning of a pout. “But Great–Grandma ra doesn’t have the new dollhouse.”
ra’s POV
I smiled at her excitement. “Gran must have had it redone.”
I decided not to wait for Damien. After breakfast, I packed Cora’s things while she yed in her room. The events of the morning had left me drained. His kiss, meant for Vivienne, was a stark reminder of where his heart truly belonged.
“Uncle Victor, I’m your only great–niece,” Cora pointed out.
My daughter sat cross–legged on her floor, surrounded by dolls in borate setups. “Mommy, I’m not done ying!”
I nced toward the study where Damien had disappeared after breakfast. The door remained firmly closed.
“For the drive,” she exined as my daughter peeked inside to find new coloring books and scented markers.
“Some tech mogul,” Gran replied. “Foreign, I believe. There’s talk ofpletely renovating the old ce.”
She opened them methodically, her expression revealing nothing as she inspected each item. The cashmere throw earned a slight nod of approval before being set aside. The tea and choctes were passed to the housekeeper with instructions to store
them.
“Not this time, princess. I have work to finish.” He crouched down to her level. “Be good for Mommy, okay?”
Once they’d gone, Victor refilled our wine sses, his expression growing serious.
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77 Gifts, Guilt, and Guarded Words
As <b>we </b>finished dessert, Cora yawned widely, her eyelids drooping.
“The same,” I answered, not borating. Gran had never approved of my marriage, had- warned me about Damien’s true nature fro he start. I didn’t need her to say “I told
<b>you </b>so.”
“I’ll take her up,” I offered, rising from my seat.
Victor opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes suddenly shifted to something behind me. His expression changed subtly as he gave an almost imperceptible shake of
his head.
“Change can be good,” Gran said pointedly. “Sometimes the most beautiful gardens grow where old structures have been torn down.”
Eleanor studied me with knowing eyes. “You’re considerate, dear. Always thinking of others before yourself. I’m sure Damien appreciates the space after his long business trip.”
I caught his meaning immediately. ra’s footsteps sounded behind us.
After Eleanor left, I finished packing and went to collect Cora.
“But you lost millions,” I protested.
“How are things?” Gran asked, her shrewd eyes missing nothing.
This seemed to appease her, and she carefully selected which dolls would make the journey.
As our car crunched up the gravel driveway, Cora pressed her face against the window. “Mommy, look! The fountain has mermaids now!”
“I made it back elsewhere,” he assured me with a small smile. “The Vances aren’t so easily defeated.”
“Still, he’s my husband. His actions reflect on me.”
“What are these?” I asked as the packages were ced on the bed.
Eleanor waved dismissively. “He’s on a call with Tokyo. I’ll let him know you’ve gone.”
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77 Gifts, Guilt, and Guarded Words
Gran’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the sudden shift in conversation. But she <b>said </b>nothing, taking <b>her </b>seat with the graceful poise that had always defined her.
Downstairs, the staff loaded our bags into waiting car. Eleanor presented Cora with <b>a </b>small gift bag.
“She has the garden yhouse you love,” I reminded her. “With the real miniature furniture.”
Cora threw her arms around his neck. “I will! Can we go to the park when Ie
back?”
“Thank you, Grandma!” Cora hugged Eleanor’s legs tightly.
I nced out the window toward the neighboring estate. Construction equipment dotted the grounds, and workers moved purposefully around the property.
“The gardener says we’ll have a record bloom this summer,” I replied smoothly, turning to smile at my grandmother as she rejoined us.
Gran’s eyebrow arched as she examined the packages. “How… generous.”
Cora had already disappeared into the garden, leaving us adults to talk freely.
“Of course.” He kissed her forehead before standing.
“Nothing could keep us away,” I assured her, presenting Eleanor’s gifts. “From Eleanor.”
“Any word on the new owners?” I asked, grateful for the change in subject.
Damien nodded, his gaze finally settling on me. “Drive safely.”
“Let me,” Gran insisted. “I want to show her the new books I got for her room.”
Damien nodded, already reaching for his phone as it buzzed in his pocket. “Have a good weekend.”
“You’re leaving already?” he asked, his eyes flicking between Cora and me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay another day?” Eleanor appeared in the doorway, her elegant figure leaning against the frame.
“All the more reason you’re my favorite.” He winked, setting her down. “Your great–grandmother is in the srium.”
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77 Gifts, Guilt, and Guarded Words
The Lawrences‘ estate had stood vacant for years, its once–grand Victorian
architecture falling into disrepair. I’d yed there as a child, exploring the overgrown gardens with my cousins.
Victor leaned forward. “Listen to me. Damien Thorne has been using business to wage personal vendettas for years. I knew the risks when I backed Vivienne’s project.”
“I’ll make sure she gets them,” I promised, though I knew most would end up in Gran’s donation pile by next week.
As if summoned by our conversation, the study door opened. Damien emerged, his expression unreadable as he approached.
“Since you’re headed to ra’s,” Eleanor continued, “would you mind taking these along?” She gestured to a staff member who appeared with several elegantly wrapped boxes.
“It will be strange having new neighbors after all these years,” I mused.
“Gran’s rosebushes are looking spectacr this year,” he said loudly, his tone abruptly conversational. “Don’t you think?”
“Just a few things for ra.” Eleanor smiled warmly. “Some tea from Japan, Belgian choctes, that cashmere throw she admiredst year.”
The question hung in the air. Would I return to this house that had never felt like home?
ra Bellweather’s estate sprawled across ten acres of manicured grounds. The imposing stone mansion had been in our family for generations, its grandeur rivaling even the Thornes‘ wealth.
“I’m not sure yet,” I answered honestly. “I’ll let Damien know.”
Victor’spany had suffered significant losses after Damien blocked several key partnerships–retaliation for Victor’s support of Vivienne’s career advancement in apeting firm.
“Perfect.” Eleanor sped her hands together. “Do you need help with anything else?”
We found Gran surrounded by her prized orchids, looking regal in a silk blouse and
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77 Gifts, Guilt, and Guarded Words
tailored pants despite being in her seventies.
I zipped Cora’s small suitcase closed before answering. “Gran is expecting us. Besides, I think it’s better this way.”
I merely nodded, not wanting to correct her misunderstanding. Let her believe I was leaving to give Damien space, rather than to protect what remained of my wounded
heart.
“There’s my favorite niece,” he said, embracing me tightly. “And my favorite great–niece!” He scooped Cora up, making her giggle.
“No, thank you. We’re almost ready.”
Our eyes met over our daughter’s head. For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his gaze–regret? Longing? Whatever it was vanished quickly, reced by his usual detached expression.
She nodded, thankfully not pressing further. “There are some changes happening next door. The Lawrences finally sold their property.”
“I wanted to apologize,” I said quietly. “For what Damien did to your business deals in
Asia. I know it was because of Vivienne.”
“There you are,” she said, rising to embrace me. “I was beginning to think that husband of yours had changed your mind.”
“We’re going to Great–Grandma’s house!” Cora announced excitedly.
The moment had passed, but Victor’s warning look lingered in my mind. Some truths were still too dangerous to speak aloud, even here in what should have been the safety of my family home.
“She does try, doesn’t she?” Gran remarked, her tone making it clear that no amount of expensive gifts would erase the past.
“Daddy, aren’t youing?” Cora looked up expectantly.
“Don’t,” Victor said firmly. “None of that was your fault, ra.”
Victor, my uncle, greeted us at the entrance. His warm smile was a wee change from the cool formality of the Thorne household.
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77 Gifts, Guilt, and Guarded Words
<b>I </b><b>stared </b>into my wine ss, guilt still weighing heavily. “Sometimes I wonder if marrying him was the biggest mistake of my life.”
Her metaphor wasn’t subtle, but I appreciated!
my marriage.
restraint in not directly criticizing
That was it. No goodbye kiss, no promises to callter. Just three words of practical
advice.
“We need to leave soon, Coco. You can bring two dolls with you.”
With that dismissal, we left the Thorne manor behind.
“Should I…” I hesitated, wondering if I should inform him we were leaving.
I stared at the mountain of gifts. This wasn’t mere politeness–it was Eleanor’s
continued campaign to win over my grandmother, who’d never fully forgiven the Thornes for how Damien and I came to be married.
Eleanor nodded, pausing at the door. “Will you be returning on Sunday?”
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