Trillion - Winter Renshaw Page 0,77

only in my mind.

I’ll tell her soon enough.

Forty-Nine

Trey

Present

“We’re so glad you could stay the weekend with us.” Anabelle air kisses Sophie’s cheek before turning her attention to me.

Nolan keeps his distance, nodding, scrutinizing before shaking my hand as if completing a business transaction. Cold. Formal. Eye contact that demands the upper hand while simultaneously conveying an unspoken threat.

“It was so lovely getting to know you both,” she adds, practically gushing, oblivious to her husband’s steely countenance. “And you make a beautiful couple.”

A Town Car waits in the circle drive, holding our loaded luggage as the driver stands patiently by the passenger door.

This morning, we enjoyed breakfast in the nook with the children. Sasha asked Sophie to sit next to her and proceeded to tell her all about her teacher, her homework, her best friends, her “boyfriend,” and her favorite Disney movies. When she was done, she begged her parents to let us stay “just a little longer.”

It was adorable.

But I’m ready to get home and back to an ounce of normalcy.

“Bye, Sophie!” Sasha appears from behind her parents and wraps Sophie in a hug around her waist.

“Goodbye, Sasha,” Sophie hugs her back, and for a second I swear her eyes turn glassy.

The two of them really bonded over the past twenty-four hours. Completely unexpected. Enzo mostly kept back and stayed to himself. A kid of few words. While Anabelle tried to coax him into being social, he wouldn’t have it. The only person he would talk to was his sister, and even then she was so chatty she did most of the talking for him.

“It was so lovely to meet you,” Sophie adds. “Good luck with third grade.”

Sasha dashes off, disappearing into the next room.

“Thank you—both—for a wonderful weekend …” Sophie says before turning to me, hands folded regally in front of her hips.

I check my timepiece. “Yes. Thank you so much for hosting us, Nolan. Anabelle. Nolan, we’ll be in touch this week, I presume?”

He nods, his pointed stare passing from Sophie to me and back. “Yes. I’ll call you.”

I hope our time together was enough to convince him, otherwise the past couple of days were for naught.

We’re in the car a few minutes later when I take Sophie by the hand. “Everything okay? You’ve been so quiet since last night.”

“I’m fine.” She offers a smile, though her eyes disagree.

“No. Seriously. There’s something on your mind.”

She laughs. “I had a good time this weekend. Just kind of sad to leave.”

“You’re a terrible liar, as per usual.” I cup her face, bringing her closer and kissing her. “Whatever it is, whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be here.”

Sophie kisses me back, lips tight and posture rigid.

Something’s off.

As soon as we get home, I’ll right this ship.

I can’t imagine it’s anything that can’t be fixed.

Fifty

Sophie

Present

I’m pacing when he emerges from the shower Sunday evening, towel wrapped tight and low on his hips, showcasing the deep V that points to one of my favorite parts of him … a part I’ll never know again after tonight.

We landed a few hours ago, and I immediately headed for the soaker tub the second we got home. I poured the water so hot it turned my skin red, and I stayed in until it cooled to a tepid, teeth-chattering temperature.

If I tell him about Nolan’s threat, I’ll violate the NDA and my sister and mother will suffer for it.

If I don’t tell him about any of it and stay with him, Nolan won’t sell his company—and Trey’s worked so hard to land this deal. He wants it more than anything. And he deserves it … especially after hearing about the faulty plane Nolan’s parents sold his.

On the off-chance Trey’s willing to sacrifice this record-breaking acquisition to save our budding relationship, he might be able to figure out the truth behind it. And what if he does something rash? What if he tells Anabelle the truth and she leaves Nolan and Sasha grows up in a broken family? All of this would be for nothing.

I wring my hands, avoiding the stare from across the room that attempts to anchor me in place.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on?” Trey asks.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it …” It’s better I be blunt and honest and get this over with. Plus Trey hates sugarcoating. “I can’t do this anymore.”

His eyes widen and he rushes to my side, placing a steady hand on my forearm to