Page 71 of Her Ex's Father
I grip my spoon tightly, appetite gone. “So, it was just…”
“A tragedy,” Meredith finishes softly. “Not a crime.”
Silence falls between us, filled with the clatter of dishes from the kitchen, the murmur of other diners.
I nod slowly, the unease lightening its grip, but something else settling instead. Meredith’s certainty comforts me, but the whispers are louder now, Derrick’s vague accusations echoing in my head.
If Ben has lived with this shadow for years, no wonder he keeps parts of himself locked away. No wonder he shuts down when the past surfaces. He loved Georgiana so much, and tohave to live with people around him thinking he had a part in her death…
But what bothers me the most is this: if he could hide that pain so deeply… what else could he be hiding?
I press a hand to my belly, to the steady swell where my daughter grows. She deserves clarity. She deserves truth.
And so do I.
Meredith reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Don’t let rumors poison what you have. Talk to him. He’ll tell you the truth.”
I force a smile, though my chest feels heavy. “I will.”
But inside, the decision is already made.
When Ben comes back from Sweden, I’m going to confront him.
About Georgiana. About Derrick. About everything.
Because if we’re going to build a life together, there can’t be shadows between us anymore.
Chapter 26
Benedict
The jet’s descent rattles through my bones. Eleven hours in the air, two at a stopover to refuel, and I’m no closer to calm than when I left Stockholm. Aspen’s peaks rise like jagged teeth through the last blush of sunset, catching fire in the fading light. “Home,” my pilot says cheerfully over the intercom.
It doesn’t feel like home.
Home would have been sitting beside Maddie, hearing our child’s heartbeat together. Instead, I was in boardrooms, shaking hands and making promises, convincing myself that building her an empire was the same as being a husband. A father.
It wasn’t. I remember Georgiana cussing me out after long nights at the office. I know it the second the wheels kiss the tarmac. I’m making the same mistakes, all over again.
Handed a second chance, I’m already digging its grave.
By the time the car threads up the mountain road, darkness has swallowed the valley. The Bronson Estate glows warm against the shadows—golden windows scattered across stone walls, firelight flickering. From this far off, to anyone else it would look welcoming. To me, it looks like judgment. Thefeeling of relief when we take the turn that leads to my private lodge is as present as ever.
When we pull onto the drive, trees swallowing what little light is left, my shoulders finally start to loosen. The ache in my jaw, though, is persistent.
The doors open before I reach them. Hugh is there, steady as ever, his hand out for my coat. His eyes flick to my face, then away, respectful.
“She’s in the library,” he says quietly. “She had the appointment this afternoon.”
I stop halfway out of my shoes. “And?”
He hesitates. “Healthy. Strong. But… she was quiet after. Said she’d wait up for you.”
Quiet. Maddie doesn’t do quiet. Her laughter carries through rooms like music, irreverent and alive. For Hugh to call her quiet is to say she’s gone hollow. “Derrick?” I ask, wondering if my son, who still hasn’t left Colorado, has decided to poison my bride against me while I was gone.
Hugh takes a deep breath. “At the hot springs these last few days, with friends. We’ve weeded out the rest of the staff that he was paying to snoop, I think.”
Fear roosts like a crow in my chest. “Any idea what he was looking for?”
