The Knight (Endgame #2)(34)

“Did my mother see anyone besides you? Before you were married?”

His eyes widen. “Don’t you dare speak about her that way.”

“It’s not an insult to her, Daddy.” But whatever is inside this diary may very well indict my father. Justin called me naive when it came to Gabriel Miller, but I’m beginning to wonder if the monsters in disguise weren’t around me all along.

He softens. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed. I’d rather you remember her as I do, as the beautiful woman I loved.”

“She’s more than just the way she looked.” And I am, too.

“I know that, but she was troubled.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re right that she saw someone else. I didn’t find out until later. Until the night before we were married. I couldn’t sleep I was so excited to be with her. So I went to her room and saw her sneaking out the window.”

“Oh no,” I whisper.

“She was going to meet another man.”

“I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

“Don’t be,” he says, more fierce than I’ve seen him in years. “She married me, understand? She chose me.”

“Yes.” Tears sting my eyes. “She did.”

“And I didn’t hold it against her, but I’m not proud of it either. She said goodbye to him, said goodbye to that kind of thinking. And she was faithful to me.”

“I believe you.”

And I do believe him, because I can already tell from the entries what she plans to do. She’s in the process of saying goodbye. That night I read the next few entries, slowly, painfully reliving the way she planned the wedding, both a new beginning and a sad farewell.

He waited for me at the theater, closed for the season and empty except for the two of us. He asked me to leave with him, to make a new life. I would never see my family again. Never see Nina again. And my family would be disgraced. I told him no.

I’ll find my own happiness, here in Tanglewood.





Chapter Twenty-Three





In the morning I take a cab instead of the bus. The routes don’t go into the upscale part of Tanglewood, where the gates are high and the pools are glittering. I slip the taxi driver a little extra to cruise the wide streets until I spot the house from memory. Daddy and I attended Nina Thomas’s fiftieth birthday party a while ago, but I still remember the gorgeous Corinthian columns across the front.

It isn’t Nina who answers the door, or even a servant, but Charlotte. Her pretty eyes widen. “Avery. Are you okay?”

That tells me what I look like right now, dark shadows under my eyes and soul grieving my father’s secret shame. “I’m not sure. I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I was wondering if it would be possible to see your mother.”

The worry doesn’t fade from her eyes. There’s curiosity too. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you. Come in, come in.”

She pulls me into a glittering foyer that opens to a large spiral staircase. To the side I can see a long dining room table with a laptop and papers covering the gleaming wood.

Charlotte gives a little laugh. “I’m always working. I have a condo near the office, but I like to come here on the weekends to spread out.”

I manage a smile, but she doesn’t seem to expect pleasantries. “Wait here a sec,” she says, apologetic. “Let me just make sure she’s up for visitors.”

While she’s gone, my gaze strays again to the pile of papers. Probably whoever bought my house is somewhere in that stack. Only a few yards away from me. It’s a betrayal of trust to even consider looking, especially when Charlotte has been so helpful and gracious to me. I’m desperate enough to think about it, though.

A dark voice reminds me, Other people don’t play by the rules, do they?

The dark voice sounds uncomfortably like Gabriel Miller’s. The man who shared pictures of me, even after the auction was over. To humiliate me? Mission accomplished.

Charlotte skips down the steps. “She definitely wants to see you, but…” Her eyes mist over. “She has hard days sometimes. Today is one of those days.”

My chest tightens. “I can come back.”

“No! She’d feel awful if you left. She really does want to see you.” A melancholy expression crosses Charlotte’s face. “I don’t think you know how much she loved your mother.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

And that’s how I end up in a dimly lit room smelling of incense. Wall hangings in jewel tones and damask patterns give the room an intimate feeling. A large bed sits on a platform, but it’s empty. A large fireplace crackles from the side of the room, with two cream-colored armchairs perched nearby.

Nina Thomas looked ageless on her fiftieth birthday, hair and makeup flawless, not a wrinkle that could be seen. Her smile had been brilliant and white, a contrast to her smooth dark skin.

She looks like a different woman now—tired and sad. Frail despite her full body. A large-knit throw covers her legs. Is this how she looks on all her bad days? Or has that much changed in the past couple of years?

“Ms. Thomas?”

“I told you, dear,” she admonishes. “Call me Nina. No Ms. Thomas and definitely no ma’am.”