“I did not.” He stomped two steps closer. “Why do you keep saying that? I loved my family business, that’s true, but that didn’t mean I’d choose it over you.”
“But you did.” My breath stuttered out of me. “My dad told me everything.”
Scowling, he narrowed those piercing blue eyes. “Doesn’t sound like it.”
I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin. “Your father bought one hundred acres from my dad. The eastern slope of Mt. Wilton. Sound familiar?”
“Lumber companies buy and sell land all the time.”
“Yes,” I said with a sharp breath in. “But your father bought it from mine at a steep discount. Said you’d be willing to walk away from me and our silly little marriage and go through with the divorce if he agreed.”
He shook his head. “No. Not possible.”
“It is,” I spit out through gritted teeth. “He forced my father’s hand. Not that my father was blameless. He wanted me to go to school, to get out of this town and away from you. My mother had always wanted me to get an education, and he worried that if I stayed married to you, I’d get stuck like she did.”
“No.” He shook his head, tugging at his hair again. “I tried to contact you so many times. You ignored me. You shut me out, because your family hated me and mine. I didn’t stop loving you. You stopped loving me.”
The panic flashing across his face made my resolve stumble a bit. My stomach flipped.
“My father begged me to leave and start the new semester,” I said, my voice a little softer. “He’d already paid the tuition. Gave me the letter you wrote. Said he wouldn’t let me give up my life for a man who didn’t truly love me.”
Gus snapped his head up and blinked. “What letter? Every letter I wrote was some variation of I can’t live without you and I’ll love you forever.”
“I only ever got one letter, and in that one, you told me we were too young and had rushed into something we couldn’t handle. You said you needed to focus on your career and the family business. You said our fathers had agreed to the sale of land in exchange for our divorce.”
He turned and slammed his hand into the wall, and my heart cracked open wider. “No. Chloe, no. I would never have written that.”
At the utter devastation rolling off him, the ground shifted beneath my feet. Every hurt, every slight that I’d held on to for two decades was slipping away. What the hell was he saying? It contradicted everything I knew to be true. He had pulled away when his parents disapproved. He’d been desperate to impress his father.
“You were the love of my life. Even then, I’d have died for you. I didn’t give two shits about trees. I was getting ready to leave everything behind to be with you in Vancouver.”
“No.” I shook my head hard. “You said you could never leave Maine. That the family business needed you.”
“That was before we got married.” He took another step closer, his chest heaving. “That was before I realized that you were the one. That nothing else mattered. I wrote it all in my letters. I begged for another chance. I told you I’d shred the divorce papers.”
We stood several feet apart, assessing one another, hearts pounding.
My head was so muddy, and my every cell was brimming with hurt and anger and confusion.
“I should have chased you,” he said, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I bought a plane ticket. But I felt so stupid. Your father was so convincing. Said you deserved a fresh start. He said you loved school and that I would just hold you back.”
My stomach dropped. “You talked to my dad?”
A succinct nod. “I went to see him. Begged to get your address.”
Nausea swirled in my stomach. My dad? He’d never told me any of this. I’d always believed Gus had signed the divorce papers and forgotten I existed, while I’d spent months crying myself to sleep every night.
Recognition dawned in his expression at the same moment it swept over me.
My father and I were not close. He’d pushed me away. He’d forced me to go. I knew that. He’d never wanted me near the family business, and he’d always favored my brothers.
But I’d always assumed that, deep down, it was because he wanted what he thought was best for me. That he shut down after Mom’s death and couldn’t express himself.
Was he really capable of lying to me like this? Manipulating me and destroying my heart and self-confidence in the process?
He grunted. “My dad…”
“And my dad?” My chest squeezed so tight it was hard to breathe.
“They lied,” he said. “To both of us and maybe each other. But I tried. I swear it. Not hard enough, and I’ll never forgive myself for that, but I tried. I loved you so purely and deeply, Chloe. Part of me died when you left.”
The nausea hit me like a tidal wave, and bile rose in my throat. I ran to the bathroom, holding out my hands to keep from falling in the darkened house.
I almost slipped on the tile in the large en suite as I struggled to hold back what was trying to come out of me.
As I retched, he appeared behind me, gathering up my hair.
I heaved over and over again, until there was nothing left inside me.
The whole time, he stood there, holding my hair with one hand and rubbing soothing circles on my back with the other, telling me it would be okay.
When I was done, he picked me up and carried me to the couch. He shuffled to the kitchen, returned with a glass of water, then sat down and put his arm around me.
I was spent, empty. I’d been carrying around this hurt and anger for years. Heavy suitcases that I shuffled along with throughout my entire adult life. They’d become such a big part of me, I wasn’t sure I could ever put them down.
His face was drawn and weary. “Where does this leave us?” he asked, stroking Clem’s ears.
“I need to think. Nothing makes sense right now. For so long, I thought I loved you more than you loved me.”
