Page 62 of Her Ex's Father
Ann’s sharp eyes tick back and forth between us. She looks scandalized that I’ve even mentioned Georgiana’s name to Maddie, let alone explain our relationship.
But what Ann doesn’t know is that Madeline has been more understanding of that—of the fact that I’ve loved someone deeply before her, lost someone before her—than I ever could have hoped.
Joseph leans forward, elbows on the table in a way that would get any junior associate thrown out of his office. “And here you are, bringing a young bride home to fill your halls. Quite the accomplishment.”
“Joseph,” Caroline cuts in smoothly, her tone warning.
He just laughs again. “I mean no harm. It’s just… refreshing. Though one might wonder whether our Benedict is looking for a wife, or just a way to feel young again.”
Maddie stirs her soup once, twice, then lowers her spoon. She doesn’t take a sip.
I want to reach for her hand. Instead, I breathe slow, steady, willing myself to hold it together.
The meal moves on, but the comments don’t stop. Sienna, seated across from Maddie, watches with a mixture of curiosity and smugness, as though cataloguing every slight. Leo is completely uninterested in any of it, though his expression is guarded; Caroline looks ready to go to battle, if need be.
Joseph asks Maddie if she’s adjusting to “real money” after her “quaint ranch upbringing.” Ann makes an elaborate show of complimenting the dress, then notes that “it must be a relief not to worry about expenses anymore.”
Maddie handles it with poise, and with real responses—not backhanded compliments. “There’s not much need for silk dresses on the ranch, though you’d be surprised how much a good flannel and a pair of jeans can cost.”
My jaw feels tight with the urge to defend not just Madeline, but her family, surprisingly. I’m tempted to mention that Crown & Range made close to 4.5 billion the prior year, but talking numbers at dinner would be tactless, and Joseph and Ann aren’t looking to change their mind about her.
And then the worst:
“My dear,” Ann says sweetly as the main course arrives, “you do know that Benedict is older than Joseph and I were when Sienna was born? You’re closer to her age than to his. Doesn’t that ever… concern you?”
Sienna smirks. Joseph hides another chuckle behind his napkin.
Maddie smiles faintly, lips trembling at the edges. “I’m not concerned,” she says softly.
But I am.
The knife clatters onto my plate. “Enough.”
The table stills. My voice echoes louder than intended, filling the vaulted dining room. Ann blinks, surprised. Joseph frowns.
I lean forward, eyes sharp on Ann. “You’ve made your point, repeatedly. But let me make mine clear. Madeline is my wife. My choice. Not a transaction. Not a mistake. She is the woman I love, and I won’t sit here while you degrade her.”
The silence is absolute. Caroline exhales sharply, muttering, “Finally.”
Ann recovers first, setting her wineglass down with a deliberate clink. “Love, Ben? You used that word before—with Georgiana. We all remember how that ended.”
Maddie stiffens beside me.
“Ann,” Caroline snaps, her tone like a whip. “Don’t you dare.”
Ann’s gaze narrows. “People still whisper, you know. About the way Georgiana died. How convenient it was, her slipping away when she did. And how quickly you seemed to move on.”
My chest burns. “You watch your mouth.”
Joseph raises a hand, trying for diplomacy. “Ann?—”
“No,” Caroline interrupts, eyes blazing. “I won’t let you slander him in his own presence. Georgiana was sick. She made her choices. And my brother spent years drowning in guilt for not stopping her. You don’t get to twist that into gossip over some shitty duck breast and Pinot Noir.”
Ann flushes, but her chin lifts stubbornly.
The rest of dinner is a blur of brittle conversation and clinking silverware. Maddie barely touches her plate. She smiles when spoken to, but her eyes are distant, dark with hurt.
We leave early, the excuse polite but unnecessary. Everyone knows why.
