Page 81 of Symphony of Salvation

Constance beamed and thanked me, zipping and unzipping the pouch, admiring the design and the pamphlet I’d grab from the salon to go with it. August was new at parenting, and without a mom around, I thought Constance might enjoy some girl time with her friends.

One gift remained under the tree. Constance brought it to August, showing him the tag with his name.

“You really shouldn’t have,” he said, untying the curly ribbon.

“Oh, believe me. You’re right. I’m regretting all my decisions at this point.”

He stopped and studied my face, likely thinking I was solely referring to our faltering connection as lovers, but I wasn’t. The gift was bound to go down like a sinking ship.

Inside, he found a book. For a long time, he stared at the title, expression unreadable. I sensed his silent fury reigniting. Constance grabbed the hardcover and read the title, immediately darting her attention to me, a wide smile forming.A Comprehensive Beginners Guide to ASL.

August took the book from his daughter and set it aside on the end table. With a tight smile, he thanked me, then swiftly changed the subject, speaking to Constance. “We have about three hours before we have to be in Toronto, and it’s about an hour and a half drive. How about you shower and get ready.”

Excitement sparkled in Constance’s eyes. She glanced at the discarded book again, then to me, signing,Thank you.

I winked as she ran off.

Alone, the air in the room shifted and changed. Tension bled through the walls and settled around us.

“Chloé’s in Toronto?” It was none of my business, but at that point, jaded and uncaring, I figured, why not?

“She told you?”

“Only that she was visiting her mom today.”

“Yes.” August got up and collected the discarded wrapping paper strewn about. He didn’t offer more information.

“I guess I’ll take off. Let you get ready.”

He saw me to the door and waited as I tied my boots and buttoned my coat. Face-to-face on the threshold, August wore the expression of a man in anguish.

“I don’t expect to hear from you,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you in class after the holiday.”

Before I could turn and open the door, August crushed me against it and kissed me. The previous night, lust prevailed. Lust drove us into bed and fueled the entire encounter. It was not lust in control that morning. It was desperation. It was fear. It was something far greater and stronger, delivered with aching tenderness.

By the time it ended, I didn’t know up from down. August stroked my cheek and pressed his forehead to mine. “Give me a minute to sort myself out. Please.”

“You know where to find me.”

Chapter nineteen

August

The drive to Rock Glen Haven passed in silence. The weight of every one of Constance’s unasked questions filled the cab. I’d confirmed—under duress—that, yes, Niles had spent the night in my room, and yes, I sometimes enjoyed the company of men. Then, I’d promptly shut down the conversation, refusing to discuss it further.

Chloé didn’t know, and I had no sway with our daughter to convince her to keep her mouth shut. If I thought for one second I could bribe or influence secrecy, I would. As Constance’s least favorite person on the planet, I didn’t try.

We arrived ten minutes early. Parked and with the engine shut off, we sat, staring at the monolithic building that rose above the trees into the gloomy winter sky. It didn’t look like a treatment center. The Victorian mansion, located on a vast wooded property, could have passed for the home of an aristocrat had it not been for the high privacy fence circling the rear yard and decorative sign announcing its purpose.

In October, when I’d helped Chloé check in, the abundance of autumn leaves turned the landscape picturesque. Stonepathways wound around voluptuous gardens. Benches and gazebos provided quaint areas of rest. Wildlife ran among trimmed hedges and hid amid the tall branches of ancient oak and poplar.

Today, on the cold, naked side of winter, the estate’s bleakness reigned. Snow swept across lawns and accumulated on bare trees. A howling wind rattled the rusty eaves. Icicles glimmered on the porch railing. Frosted windowpanes made it impossible to see inside. No sign of birds or animals today. Not even a curious squirrel seeking a long-lost nut.

The full parking area seemed to indicate a busy event. I still wasn’t sure why I’d agreed to Chloé’s wishes.

Constance handed me her phone, a message typed out.

I won’t tell her. It’s not my place. But I don’t know why you’re ashamed.

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