Page 61 of The Billionaire and the Runaway

Eric

Ariana’s social media is filled with photos of the hospital. I know I shouldn’t be stalking her online. I know I should just call her or go see her. But I can’t. She texted me two weeks ago. I pull up her text because I’ve read it a million times.

Ariana: I’m out of the hospital. (champagne popping emoji) I miss you. Why did you leave without saying goodbye?

Then she texted me a week ago.

Ariana: There’s something between us, Eric. Or at least I thought there was. I trusted you and I don’t trust anyone. And now, you’re just gone. I keep wondering if everything actually happened or if it was just a dream. I wish you’d come to see me. I wish we could have a proper goodbye if this is goodbye. Don’t you want to say that to my face?

And that’s it. No more texts. The office seems less vibrant with her gone. Thor is on the struggle bus. I’ve barely been able to get him to eat. Hell, I’ve barely eaten. Yesterday paperwork arrived for a lawsuit against me and the farm by James Titan for the injuries caused to his daughter. That was followed by paperwork today with a final offer to buy the farm. His assistant called to say he would drop the suit if I sold him the farm.

And now, I’m sitting staring at Ariana’s things in my closet. She might be gone, but her belongings are here like ghosts, a constant reminder that she was once here.

I haven’t washed my sheets in three weeks because I can still smell her perfume on them. I know I should pack up her things and have them shipped home to her, but I can’t bring myself to do that yet. Instead, I distract myself by flipping through our social media accounts. I’ve only posted about the re-opening getting postponed. I should post more, but I don’t know what to say.

I scroll through our followers and click on a few of them, curious who is following us now. The third one is a woman named Katia Polenski. I’m about to scroll away when a photo catches my eye. It’s Ariana.

I click on it. It’s Katia, or I assume it is based on her profile picture, and Ariana. They are sitting in bikinis on a yacht, smiling and laughing. Is this what she’s used to? How was she happy here? Is this the life she wants? Maybe it was for the best. This Ariana isn’t at all like the woman I know. The woman who feeds a pig and plays with a mini Highland cow or snuggles with a kitten while eating cereal out of a box.

How can she be so different than what she was here? Was it an act?

I grow angry and turn off the computer. I’m done. I need to move on and get back to focusing on the farm. I can fight this lawsuit in court. I have good lawyers and Ariana took the tractor out on her own accord. I groan as I run a hand over my face. I don’t want to deal with a frivolous lawsuit. Maybe I should sell.

I turn to Joy. “I’m going to check on Kingsley,” I mutter.

“OK, dear. I’ll be here,” she replies, eyeing me wearily. She’s been mother-henning me for days. They all have.

I walk outside. Snuggles walks up to the fence and I pet his side.

“Hey, buddy,” I say as he leans his head against me. “I’m fine,” I assure him, but then I feel his nose sniffing. I pull back to find Snuggles has a protein bar in the wrapper that he pulled from my pocket.

“No way, give that back,” I scold as I pry it from his mouth. He huffs at me, and I groan as I manage to free the protein bar. “So much for animal sympathy.”

My phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket. Dad. I haven’t spoken to my parents in a few weeks. Things have been busy.

“You still alive up there?” Dad asks.

“Yeah. You guys OK?” I ask, wondering what the call is about.

“We’re fine. Mom is out in the pool. She mentioned that a friend of a friend said James Titan put an offer on the farm. So, I figured I should call,” he explains.

Fabulous. Just what I need.

“Yeah. I did receive an offer,” I confirm as Snuggles continues to nuzzle my shoulder. I haven’t had the heart to talk to Dad about it yet. I’ve been putting it off for days.

“Son, I think you should reject it. Fight it. You love that farm more than any of us. You have since we first moved there. It’s your home. It’s where you belong. I know you want to make it a successful business and not use your money, but sometimes we need capital to make our businesses grow,” he offers. He’s not wrong and that stings because deep down, I don’t want to bail myself out. Making this farm profitable has become some sort of fixation for me. Like if I can’t do it, then I’m a failure. And if I fail, I let Tori down and all my staff and this town. And…Ariana.

I sit down on a bale of hay. “I wanted to do it, Dad. I wanted to prove I could do it,” I try to explain.

“You did do it. You aren’t a failure, Eric. Farming is tough. There will be ups and downs. You’ve had months where you are in the black, right?” he asks.

“Yes,” I answer. It’s true that about half the months out of the year, we do make a small profit. Nothing to write home about, but it’s not a deficit.

“See, it’s a start. I wasn’t profitable there. Hell, that’s part of the reason why I retired and moved down here. But I didn’t love it like you do. I thought I did. I thought if I left the tech world behind and got my hands dirty, that I’d figure out the secret of life,” he says with a bitter laugh.

“And did you?” I ask.

He’s quiet for a long beat. “I guess I did. I learned about community in Storyview Falls. I made real friends. What do the kids call it today? A found family? Anyhow, I learned life was more about the people I have in it and the time I spend with them, rather than the things or the businesses. I enjoyed being with you kids. I enjoyed having time to see your ball games and your concerts and reading you bedtime stories. I enjoyed our nights at the firepit. I enjoyed building that guesthouse with you and Earl and Buck. But I realized I wasn’t cut out for farming. When you were away at college and traveling with Tori, it just wasn’t the same. I loved our employees, but I wanted more time with my family. I wanted to relax. And that won out because for me, it was never about the farm or the town, it was about finding myself. And I did. And now, I have a great life with your mom and I love when you all visit us and we spend time on the boat and the grandkids play in the pool. That’s what I love,” he says.

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