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Chapter Sixteen

E den slipped out of the B&B as the first streaks of dawn lit the sky, last night’s tears still burning her eyes. Fresh air, some exercise. She’d feel better after both. She hoped.

But what she needed was to wake up in Jed’s arms and to realise last night had been nothing more than a vicious dream. But nightmares required sleep, and she’d stared at the ceiling all night.

Yanking her cap down low over unbrushed hair, Eden jammed her hands into her sweatshirt pockets and walked toward the village. She’d pick up a coffee from Cody at his shop, if she could stop crying long enough to order it.

She sniffed, wiped her face, swallowed the sob clawing its way up her throat. Enough, dammit.

‘Eden.’

Her stomach lurched. She couldn’t deal with him now. Not while she was barely holding herself together. Jed stood in front of her, his face painted with pain. His hair was damp, his t-shirt sweat-stained, his jeans dirt-streaked, his low-heeled riding boots caked with mud.

‘Don’t come closer, I’ve been riding and at the stables,’ he said. Did he think she was going to fling herself into his arms? That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. His hands curled into fists in the front pockets of his jeans, his broad shoulders halfway to his ears. ‘Did you sleep?’

Sleep? When every emotional scar she possessed had been ripped open?

She should’ve been used to it by now. Her mum had chosen faith over family, and the Bancrofts, people she’d trusted and loved, half-friends, half-family, had plummeted off the pedestal she’d put them on, after she’d discovered their crimes.

Although she’d always expected them to pass the buck, to try to pin their embezzlement on her, Tara’s accusation had hit harder than she’d expected, another mortal blow that buckled her knees.

She’d been close to them, more of a daughter or a younger sister than an employee, and they’d filled the gap left by her mum when she’d joined the Church.

While she had them in her life, she hadn’t felt the need to connect with Troyden.

She had what passed for family, by choice and not blood, and had been content. Happy.

Not for a minute had she imagined they could be capable of embezzlement. Or that they’d try to frame her for their crimes. She’d trusted them, and it was a bone-deep ache, betrayal wrapped in barbed wire.

And Jed? Well, he hadn’t hesitated, automatically believing them over her.

‘No.’ She scuffed the toe of her trainer over a tuft of grass. ‘Why are you here, Jed?’

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. ‘I came to tell you that I’m going to see the Bancrofts. I need to talk to them.’

She barked out a hollow laugh. ‘Because you can’t just trust me.’

His jaw tightened. ‘That’s not fair, Eden.’

Fair? Fair would’ve been him choosing her. Fair would’ve been him proving her wrong, that maybe– just maybe– he was different. Showing her that somebody could put her first.

He raked his fingers through his hair, frustration in every tense line of his body. ‘I’ve known them forever. I need to understand?—’

Her heart cracked wide open, but she forced herself to meet his gaze.

‘Do whatever you want, Jed. We were just having fun, right? It was never going to last.’ She shrugged, feigning indifference, going in for the kill.

‘And let’s not forget, your first instinct has always been to think the worst of me. ’

He flinched at the reminder of him thinking she was a gold-digger. It was a hit. A solid one, an emotional punch to the throat.

‘I just need time to process this,’ he said, his voice rough. ‘Can’t you give me that?’

‘You can’t give me what I need so…’ She was being childish and petty. She knew she sounded churlish and resentful, but she couldn’t help it. She was bleeding here. Dragging her hands over her face, she sighed. ‘I don’t need this, Jed.’

And because she was drowning in pain, because she wanted him to hurt like she did, she went for the knockout punch. Said the one thing she knew would make him back off, too.

‘I don’t need you .’

Her lie was a throat punch, and she saw the blow land when shock flared in his eyes. His eyes darkened, his breath caught, and his sun-kissed skin paled. She’d gone too far, she knew it, but she couldn’t take back the words burning through his soul.

He nodded, once. It was a full stop at the end of the sentence that was their relationship.

Without saying anything, he turned and walked away.

Eden watched him go, the ache in her chest threatening to rip her apart.

‘Why couldn’t you believe me?’ she whispered, her words wrenched from the deepest part of her.

‘Why couldn’t you put me first?’ He didn’t look back, and Eden watched him until he disappeared from view, tears streaming down her face, dripping off her jaw and chin.

She wasn’t a crier. But Jed, damn him, had made her one.

Not even her mother had pulled this amount of emotion to the surface.

Oh, God, what was it about this man that could dismantle her with so little effort?

She needed to run, to disappear from Elmsleigh House and leave the Castle clan behind. Individually and collectively, they could eviscerate her. She needed to start somewhere new, to fade into a different background, to make herself small again, to survive.

To protect herself. Because, as she kept being reminded, no one else ever would.

* * *

After twenty-four hours in hiding, Eden walked into the courtyard behind Elmsleigh House, exhausted. She sank onto the kitchen steps, powered on her phone and braced herself. Missed calls. Messages. Troyden. Mick. Henry. More from Mick.

Nothing from Jed.

So, this was what a broken heart felt like.

A sharp, jagged rip, a relentless, aching thud.

Breathing felt impossible, the thick tension in her lungs making it difficult to inhale.

The early morning air tasted like regret.

The summer sun, having turned its back on her, held no warmth.

Her heart ached with the weight of what could’ve been, the endless possibilities never to be realised.

Eden wrapped her arms around her knees, waiting for something, anything: a sign, a nudge, the strength to move on.

The door creaked open. Troyden wore cargo shorts, a flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up and carried two mugs in his hands. His assessing gaze told her everything. He knew that her world, and maybe Jed’s, had split open and fallen apart.

‘Walk or sit?’ he asked.

‘I’ll walk if you want to?—’

‘We’re sitting,’ he decided, dropping beside her and handing her coffee. She clutched the warm mug, thankful for something solid to hold on to.

‘What did Jed tell you?’ she asked, her voice raspy.

‘You two fought, and you might or might not tell me why.’ Troyden frowned. ‘I’m presuming it’s serious.’

She inhaled, steeling herself, then laid it out.

The truth.The evidence she’d gathered and taken to the police.

Her reasons for turning his good friends in.

She offered to show him the detective’s messages, to give him the number so that he could call and verify her claims. When she finally stopped talking, her stomach twisted at his silence and her heart dropped at his sober expression.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, voice small. ‘I didn’t want to hurt your friends.’

Troyden took a long sip, watching her. ‘So, after seeing them at the cocktail party at Bythesea Hall, you bolted.’

‘Yes. I didn’t want a scene, and the police wanted me to keep my distance.’

‘Then, after you and Jed fought, you packed up and left Elmsleigh.’ He tilted his head. ‘Why did you run, Eden?’

She frowned. ‘It was partly instinctive, a need to get away. And partly because I thought I wouldn’t be welcome here anymore.’

He exhaled sharply. ‘Let me get this straight. They stole money, ripped off charities and me, and you thought I’d kick you out of my home and life for reporting them?’

Well, yes. ‘They’re your friends. Tara is Jed’s mum’s best friend.’

‘So?’ His jaw locked. ‘What does that have to do with them stealing?’

Her breath hitched. ‘Are you saying… you believe me?’

His eyes softened. ‘I think if you were lying, you wouldn’t be offering up evidence. The police wouldn’t be investigating, searching offices and issuing warrants if there wasn’t something to your claims.’

Tears burned. God, having him believe her was such a relief. Air, a thin stream, lightened the grip on her agonised lungs. ‘Thank you.’

Troyden tapped her knee. ‘You still owe me an apology.’

Eden’s heart plummeted to her toes. ‘I don’t understand?’

‘You owe me an apology for not coming to me, for not asking for help. You’re part of this family, Eden. You don’t go through things alone when I am willing to stand next to you.’

His words landed deep. A sob rose, part relief, part hope.

There was a light in the distance, and it was tangible, real.

Their relationship was salvageable. They could get through this.

Her and Jed’s relationship was on life support, and it would take a long time for those wounds to heal, but she might not lose Troyden.

There was the possibility of something new, better and deeper, between them, and Eden sucked in her first proper breath that day.

‘Are we… okay?’ She needed to check, desperate for reassurance.

‘I’m angry,’ he admitted, his voice still tight. ‘Not at you. Okay, a little at you for making me worry. But I’m furious at your mum and at my brother, at everyone who made you believe you couldn’t count on family. But I’ll get over it.’

Then he stood, pressing a quick kiss to her hair. ‘Check out of the B&B. Move back into your room. Today. ’

Eden nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. She wasn’t alone. She still had her uncle. But Jed? That was another story.