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I'd thought he was just saying pretty words in the heat of passion. Now I wondered if he'd been telling me the truth in the only way he knew how.
My phone buzzed again:
Cece:Are you still there? You've gone quiet, which usually means you're overthinking something.
Me:I’m here. Just... processing.
Cece:Process this. Victoria might have started the war, but you're the one who chose to surrender. Edward never asked you to leave.
The next morning brought news that changed everything. I was reviewing sponsor contracts at Mama's kitchen table when my phone rang with a number I didn't recognize.
"Ms. Anderton? This is Patricia Knox from Knox Media Relations. I represent the Grosvenor family."
When Patricia Knox said Grosvenor's name, my coffee mug slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers. It shattered against the kitchen floor, sending ceramic shards and hot coffee everywhere, but I barely noticed.
"Ms. Anderton? Are you there?"
"I'm here," I managed, staring at the mess spreading across Mama's clean linoleum. Seemed appropriate somehow—everything connected to the Grosvenors ended up in pieces.
"Lady Victoria has asked me to coordinate a public apology and retraction regarding recent media coverage. She's also prepared to facilitate the restoration of business partnerships that were influenced by recent events."
Victoria Grosvenor was apologizing. Victoria Grosvenor, who probably hadn't said "I'm sorry" since the Eisenhower administration, was not only apologizing but actively fixing the damage she'd caused.
"I don't understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why would she—"
"I'm not privy to internal family discussions, but Lady Victoria seems quite motivated to repair the situation quickly and thoroughly."
After I hung up, I sat on the kitchen floor surrounded by coffee and broken ceramic, and suddenly everything made sense.
Edward. Edward had found out the truth and confronted his Mother.
Edward had somehow convinced or coerced the most stubborn woman in England to make amends.
Edward was fighting for me.
I thought about Jackson's call, about the other sponsors who might follow suit once Victoria's retractions went public. Aboutthe possibility of rebuilding bigger and stronger than before. About the chance that professional success might give me the confidence to face whatever was waiting for me in London.
I walked to my laptop and pulled up flight prices to London, one-way tickets staring back at me from the screen. The numbers represented more than just money—they represented courage, hope, the possibility of heartbreak or healing.
But this time, I wouldn't be running toward Edward's world hoping to fit in. I'd be going back as myself—Lili Anderton from small-town Texas, who'd been knocked down by forces beyond her control and gotten back up stronger.
Who'd proven that authenticity could triumph over manipulation, that trust could be rebuilt, that love might be worth fighting for after all.
I clicked "purchase" before I could talk myself out of it. One-way ticket to London, departing tomorrow evening. No return date because I didn't know what I'd find when I got there.
"I'm stronger now," I said to my reflection in the laptop screen, and for the first time in three weeks, I actually believed it. Strong enough to demand the truth. Strong enough to fight for what we'd had. Strong enough to walk away again if I had to.
But first, I was going home. Both homes—Texas had healed me, but London... London was where my heart lived, even if it was broken there.
I had twenty-four hours to figure out what I was going to say to Edward Grosvenor. Twenty-four hours to decide if I was going back to forgive him, fight him, or simply prove to myself that I could face him and survive.
Maybe all three.
CHAPTER 21
Edward
"Edward, open this bloody door before I have Hartwell break it down."