Page 87 of The Holiday Cottage

“Yes, well, it was a pretty intense day. And now we share custody of a dog—” he glanced at Ralph “—so that brings us together.”

Her heart gave a little skip. “We’re going to have him every other night and every other weekend?”

“That is yet to be worked out, but I’m hoping we can keep the lawyers out of it.” He took a mouthful of coffee. “How’s the bacon sandwich?”

“Incredible. I suppose you make breakfast for women all the time.”

“Hardly ever. I don’t even make it for myself that often.”

“So what did I do to deserve this?”

He put his mug down. “I thought you needed fuel for the trip ahead. Also company, because I didn’t want you sitting here all alone eating a lonely bowl of cereal and worrying about whether the day is going to be awkward or not.”

And that, of course, was exactly what she would have been doing.

“That’s why you arrived early? For moral support?” She couldn’t forget the fact that he’d stayed with her the day before, when there were probably a hundred other things he could have been doing with what seemed to be a rare day off. “You’re probably thinking I’m the most high-maintenance woman you’ve ever met.”

“No.” He held her gaze. “But you’re definitely the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

She swallowed. “Me?”

“Yes. When I stopped my car next to you yesterday you were shocked and upset—presumably because you’d just found out that Dorothy was your grandmother—and the last thing you wanted was company. You didn’t want to get in my car, but then you saw Ralph and you climbed in so that you could help.”

“That doesn’t make me brave. It makes me a sucker for a dog in need.”

“Maybe it’s both. But when we’d finished sorting out Ralph, you could have gone home, back to London, but you agreed to hear what Dorothy and Sara had to say, and none of that made easy listening. I kept thinking that if that was me, I probably would have walked out because it would have felt like too much, but you sat there and let them say what they needed to say. Not only that, but you accepted what they said as the truth when it would have been easier to deny the whole thing. Not easy to deal with something that difficult.”

She thought back to the day before.

There had been a moment, after Miles had told her his version of the story, when she almost had left.

“Leaving would have been the easy decision. No difficult conversations.” But she’d known that if she did that, if she walked away and blamed her family for everything that had happened, she’d be denying the truth. She’d be turning herself into a victim like her mother. She’d stay locked in the past, instead of moving forward. It would make her life feel less real, and after embracing fake for so long, she badly needed her life to feel real.

She’d thought about what she’d said to her mother in the hospital that day.

You choose to blame me for everything instead of taking responsibility for your own bad choices.

“I knew that however hard it was, I needed to hear their side of the story. Give them a chance to explain.”

He nodded and took another bite of sandwich. “So, as I said, brave.”

“Having Ralph there was good.” She hesitated. “And having him there meant you stayed too, and that also helped.”

“I didn’t stay because of Ralph.”

She felt her heart thud a little harder. “Miles—”

“And even after that conversation, you could have left. You could have told them that you needed time to digest everything they’d told you, but you didn’t. Sara invited you to join them and you could have said no, but you didn’t.” He finished his coffee. “I’m guessing today is going to be a bit overwhelming for you.”

She opened her mouth to issue a denial, but instead found herself telling the truth. “I’m a bit nervous, that’s true. Scared.” She expected him to be flippant, or make another joke, but his gaze was serious.

“What scares you the most?”

Where to start? “I suppose the fact that they don’t know me. What if they don’t like me? My mother obviously hurt them a great deal, and I feel responsible.”

He frowned. “Imogen—”

“I know that’s illogical, but sometimes it’s possible to feel things even if you know it’s not logical.”

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