Page 20 of The Inn Dilemma

She smiles and nods. “He’s more happy that you’re finally home than angry that you left. Why don’t you come in? He shouldn’t be gone too much longer. It’d be nice to get to know my sister-in-law.”

“I’d like that.”

Axel leads the way into the apartment, and I love seeing the feminine touches all around. We sit and talk for a few minutes before keys jingle just outside the door and Christian steps inside. He greets Roxy with a kiss, then turns a steely expression on me.

“Nova.” He pushes his glasses up his nose and gives me a cold stare.

“Hi.”

We engage in a stare-off, neither one of us apparently knowing what to say. Words were never either of our strong suits when it came to fights. After a few hours, we’d just pretend like whatever happened never happened and moved on with our lives. Voices were never raised. Tattles were never told.

“Axel and I will give you two privacy.” Roxy and her nephew walk into another room.

There’s a long, awkward pause.

The fight Chris and I had right before I left haunts me. It plays like a reel through my head.

“You’re just like Dad. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. It’s pathetic that you can’t even be your own person. You’re his carbon copy, so obsessed with the business that you let all your other relationships fail.”

He leveled his gaze on me. Hurt flashed in his eyes.“At least I have some direction with my life. All you do is flit around from guy to guy like a little…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but I knew exactly what he was about to say.

A mix of anger and shame burned beneath my skin.“Maybe before, but Beau is different. He’s going to make me into a famous painter. Or at least someone other than an asset or trophy to flaunt around. I’m so tired of pretending to be something I’m not. I’m leaving no matter what you say to become who I’m supposed to be.”

Christian’s expression softened, and he took a step toward me. He reached out, but before his hand landed on my shoulder, he let it drop.“Don’t do this. You’re going to regret it.”

“I won’t.”

“You will. And you will grow to hate yourself for abandoning all of us.”

“The only thing I hate is allowing Dad to bend me to his will. And it’s pathetic that you don’t put a stop to it when he does the same thing to you.”

Christian drew his lips into a firm line. The tenderness in his eyes was replaced with pure disdain.“I’d rather achieve something with my life. Dad is right—your dreams of being a painter are obnoxious and childish.”

He turned and walked away before the look of guilt in his eyes told me he was sorry for the words he’d spit out. Before I could take back all the ugly things I said to him too.

“Nova,” Chris says, pulling me out of the memory of a fight that has haunted me for years.

“I’m sorry. Truly sorry I left the way I did. That I got rid of my old number and never called or texted you even though I knew your number by heart. I’m sorry for all the ugly things I said before I left. And I’m sorry I’ve been a selfish brat for the last four years.” Emotion fills my throat until it feels as though it could suffocate me. “I missed you.” I blow out a breath of regret. “You and Dad were both right about Beau. He only had his best interests in mind. He never showed my paintings to the people he promised me he’d show them to. I was a trophy girlfriend he paraded around at parties and events.” I cover my face with my hands and shake my head. “I’m sorry?—”

Christian pulls my hands from my face. “Nova, you’re forgiven.” He rests his hands on my shoulders. “Did I want to shake some sense into you before you left? Yes, of course I did. But you needed to make your own mistakes. You needed to become your own person. Who God made you to be, not who Kent Price wanted you to be.”

I hang my head and roll my lips between my teeth. “Who I was in Paris was not the woman God created me to be.” Hugging my arms around my middle, I continue. “You were right about everything. And I hated that you were.”

Chris motions for me to sit, and we both plop down on the couch. “Believe it or not, Dad has always had our best interests at heart.”

I laugh sardonically. “Dad doesn’t have a heart.”

Chris steeples his fingers beneath his chin and looks away from me. “Dad is sick.” He drops his hands and faces me. “Did you know that?”

My heart sinks. “I had a feeling. When I saw him…”

Christian’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline as he cuts me off. “You saw Dad?”

“Yep. I went to the house to try and make amends. When he came to the door, Dad told me I had no home with him and he had no daughter.” I dismissively wave my hand as if Dad’s words don’t continually cut me to the bone.

“He’s been acting strangely, but he never mentioned seeing you.” More to himself than me, he says, “That would explain his even worse mood.” His eyes bore into mine. “I was really hoping you’d return at least one of my phone calls. I tried telling you about his kidney disease so many times.”

I wince. “How bad is it?”

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