Dance Away with Me(106)

He leaned down and picked up a rough-edged stone. “You haven’t.”

“Since the day we met, I’ve brought you nothing but complications. You came here to find direction, but what you’ve found is pandemonium. I haven’t been an inspiration to you, Ian. I’ve been a blockade.”

He palmed the stone. “Don’t say that.”

“Tell me one thing you’ve produced since we’ve been together that’s satisfied you. One piece that’s made you happy.”

“I have a sketchbook full of drawings.”

“They’re beautiful. But you hate every one of them.”

He rolled the stone in his hand. “I don’t hate them.”

“You can’t even look at them without curling your lip.”

“I don’t do that!”

She blinked away tears. “It’s not going to work, Ian. You’re an artist trying to find himself. Wren and I are standing in the way of that happening.”

He clutched the stone in his fist. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All those messy emotions . . . You talk about your father’s abuse, but I think it’s your mother who’s left the deepest scars. A woman who supposedly loved you but was never strong enough to protect you as a mother should. I understand why all this cripples you—me, Wren. Everything we bring with us.”

“I’m not crippled.”

She’d never heard him speak with less certainty. “Look at yourself. The idea of being in love, of having a family . . . It makes you angry, not happy.” Her voice caught. “You know it’s not right for you. How could we have a good life with you working so hard to hide your resentment of all the complications, all the disruptions Wren and I bring along?”

“Don’t make me sound so cold-blooded.”

“You’re exactly the opposite.” Wren began to cry. Tess moved her to her shoulder. “You feel everything. That’s why you can’t be the husband I want or the father she needs.”

“You act like reimagining a career happens overnight. It doesn’t. These things take time.”

“We’re not only talking about reimagining a career. This is reimagining your life. Go back to Manhattan, Ian, and stop running away from yourself. It’s not good for you here. And it’s not good for me to want what you can’t deliver.”

His shoulders dropped. He looked out toward the horizon. He had no counterargument, and he didn’t even try to come up with one. Instead, he drew back his arm and flung the stone as far as he could. “Have it your way.”

She left the clearing, silently begging him to stay away until she didn’t love him anymore.





Chapter Twenty-Three




Tess gazed out the back window at the tree house and imagined it gradually rotting away, forever unfinished. Ian was gone, taking all his clothes with him, and she’d hauled her things back to the schoolhouse, but only temporarily. As soon as it was officially up for sale, she’d move out, but for now, she’d leave the cabin to Kelly.

Letting Ian go had been the right thing to do, no matter how sick she felt inside. One look at his unhappy face had proven that. She wanted him desperately, but she only wanted him whole and happy, free to love with an open heart. And that was something she couldn’t have.

She pulled herself away from the window before she fell into a full-on pity party. She needed to attend to something, and now was as good a time as any.

The schoolhouse’s WiFi was working for a change. She settled on the couch with Wren asleep in the sling and pulled up FaceTime to make the call she’d been thinking about for days.

“Tess?” Diane looked awful. She wore no makeup, and her blond bob lay flat against her head. It seemed as though a lifetime had passed since Simon had shown up at the schoolhouse, but it had been only four days.

Diane sneezed and pressed a tissue to her nose. “Sorry. Simon left this morning, and I have a cold.”

“If this isn’t a good time—”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t have anything else to do except feel sorry for myself.”

Tess knew exactly how that felt. “I should have called you earlier, but I didn’t know what to say.”

“It was a shock.” Diane’s voice began to tremble. “When I think about Wren . . . About all we put you through . . . And for what? For nothing.”

“Diane, this is awkward.”

“I have another word for it.” She dabbed at her eyes. “It was lovely having a grandchild, even for a few weeks.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

“Wren? How is she? Is she all right?”

“Yes. She’s fine. She’s asleep right here. But I was wondering . . . I know it’s a lot to ask, and I don’t want to put you on the spot, so promise me you’ll say no if you think this is a stupid idea. I was wondering if . . .” The words came out in a rush. “Would you and Jeff consider being Wren’s grandparents?”

“Her . . . ?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but—”

“Yes!”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes! I never dreamed you’d want us to do this.”