Page 85 of Sweet Madness

Tears flow freely down my cheeks as I absorb my hero’s words. “Je t'aime, papa,” I say, my voice steadier now.

Dad’s eyes soften, his unconditional love for me shining through. “Je t'aime encore plus, chérie,” he replies warmly. “Now, no more tears.” He snaps at both Mom and me. “Tell us who you are.” Love and adoration shine through as he looks at me.

And I do just that.

I tell my parents exactly who I am and all that I’ve discovered about myself since arriving at the ranch. I also tell them about my new career path, and all the while, they listen with open minds and hearts, but most importantly, with a smile on each of their faces.

While we talk some more, I notice Dad looking at his phone with concern written all over his expression. Concern and pain.

As Dad whispers something to Mom, I strain to catch my brother’s name—Royal. My heart skips a beat, knowing it means something bad, something that ties into our family’s current situation. My mother’s expression shifts subtly, a fleeting moment of pain crossing her features before she composes herself and manages to put on a brave smile for me.

What is going on?

I start to ask what is happening with Royal when Dad’s gaze meets mine through the camera. His voice carries a mixture of reassurance and determination as he delivers news that should bring relief but, right now, only makes my heart ache. “You’ll be able to come home soon. We’re close to finding the stalker. The creep is not after you, darling.”

I manage a smile, trying to mirror the hope and happiness in my father’s eyes. Yet beneath the surface, sadness lingers, etched into the corners of my smile. It is a smile that my all-knowing mother does not miss—a smile that hides my sadness at the thought of leaving this perfect little world where the only inhabitants are my handsome Shaw and me.

Mom’s eyes soften with concern as she notices the melancholy in my smile. “Your brother will be okay, sweetheart,” she says softly, her voice carrying the warmth and strength that has always been my anchor. “Nothing will happen to any of you. We won’t ever allow it.”

I know that. I’ve always known, but that is not the reason for my change in mood.

I nod, my throat tightening with emotion. “I know, Mom,” I reply, my voice wavering slightly. “We Kentons are made of gold. We’re hard to break.” I whisper reverently the words our parents drilled into us every day of our lives. The mantra has kept me from drowning more times than I can count.

“Nous sommes faits d’or pur, ma chérie,” Dad says.

“C’est vrai, papa,” I reply.

My father’s eyes shine with love. “Tell us more about the real Ella,” he prompts, his voice filled with genuine curiosity and pride.

I shove down the sadness I felt moments ago, my face bright as I detail my adventures at the ranch and my online classes. I talk about Poppy, the tulip fields, and the horses.

I even share stories about the moments spent with Shaw, all while wearing the biggest smile on my face. The same cannot be said about Dad, though. His face sours every time I mention my bodyguard, a reaction Mom notices and rolls her eyes at every time.

A fond smile plays on Mom’s lips as she absorbs every detail about my current life away from home. “It sounds like you’re thriving,” she says proudly.

I beam happily and continue sharing my days here with my parents.

As our time together draws to an end, I feel the weight I’ve been carrying lifting from my shoulders. My parents love me, and they have proven the depth of their love time and time again. They will have my back no matter what. I know this now.

I’m sure they will understand my feelings for my bodyguard. It might take them a while to get used to, but if it makes me happy, I know they won’t stand in the way of me and my dreams. And my biggest and most special dream is him.

“We’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” Dad says, his voice strong and sure.

“I love you both. Kiss the little monsters for me,” I reply, my voice steady with affection for them and all six of my siblings.

Mom blows me a kiss. “We will,” she smiles. “To Saturn and back, Ellaiza,” she says softly.

“To Saturn and back, Mom,” I whisper back.

With a final wave and a lingering look of love exchanged through the screen, we disconnect the call.

Holding the iPad close to my chest, I get up from the bed and walk toward the window. The sun will set soon, painting the sky in beautiful hues of pink and orange before darkness falls and the stars take over.

I see him then, working on the fences that keep the cattle protected and safe. He’s shirtless, and I can see the sweat running down his chest even from all the way here.

God, he’s so beautiful—beautiful and strong.

Just last night, he was breaking apart as he shared a traumatic event from his past, yet here he is, working on his ranch as if nothing happened. He’s so strong and so resilient.

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