Page 83 of Her Ex's Father
The cottage smells like woodsmoke and something sweet—Caroline’s baking again. She’s at the kitchen counter, sliding cookies off a tray. She turns at the sound of the door, brows lifting.
“Ben. What’s wrong?”
“Maddie’s gone.” My voice cracks on the word.
Caroline sets the tray down, wipes her hands on a dish towel. She doesn’t look shocked. Concerned, yes, but not surprised.
“She asked Hugh to schedule the jet for her,” I say, pacing the length of the living room. “To Philadelphia. She made it sound like I’d agreed. Hugh thought it was fine. But I didn’t—I didn’t know. She just… left.”
Caroline studies me, calm as ever, arms folded loosely. “All right. Take a breath.”
“I can’t take a damn breath.” My chest heaves. “She’s five months pregnant, Caroline. She’s flying alone. What if something happens? What if?—”
“Ben.” Her tone sharpens, just enough to cut through my spiral. “Sit.”
I glare, but she holds my gaze until I obey, collapsing into one of her armchairs. My hands flex restlessly, like they don’t know what to do without steering wheels or fists to clench.
Caroline sits opposite me, unhurried. “It’s safe for her to fly right now. Perfectly safe. If she asked for space, it’s because she needs it. And you need to respect that.”
Respect. The word tastes bitter.
“She shouldn’t have to leave to feel safe,” I mutter.
“No,” Caroline agrees softly. “But maybe she needed to leave to feel heard.”
The words strike deeper than I want them to.
“What happened?” she asks, the words neutral.
I drag my hand down my face. “You don’t understand. She texted someone. Some guy named Jack.”
Caroline’s lips purse, but she doesn’t flinch. “And?”
“And it sounded like there was something there, something secret. I don’t know how to explain it. Maddie has texted him a few times over the months, since we married. It’s not much, and it’s vague, but there’s something… I can’t stop thinking… That she’s in love with someone else. Why else would she run halfway across the country?”
For the first time, Caroline laughs. Not cruelly, but warm, exasperated.
“Oh, Ben. You idiot.”
I bristle. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s obvious she’s in love with you.” Caroline leans forward, eyes sharp with certainty. “Anyone with eyes can see it. And you, I’m assuming, are just as in love with her, but you’re fighting it. Trying to act like this is still just a contract. She’s probably doubting you. Wondering if you can love her back. Wondering if she’s just a business deal, or a body to carry your heir.”
“There’s no way,” I whisper, barely noticing that Leo has gone still somewhere behind us, listening, “there’s no way she doesn’t know…” But even now I can’t finish the sentence. Can’t saythat I’m in love with her. That she’s everything.Instead, I say: “The way I look at her alone should tell her.”
Caroline rolls her eyes, reminiscent of the rebellious teen she was, infuriating our father and worrying our mother. “Sure. Buthaveyou told her?”
The accusation lands like a blow because it’s true.
I’ve pushed her away. Kept her at arm’s length, too afraid of what it means to let her all the way in. I’ve told myself it’s for her protection, for the baby’s, but maybe it’s just cowardice.
“She said she wished Jack was there,” I confess, voice hoarse.
“And you’ve wished Georgiana was still here,” Caroline shoots back. “We all say things in moments of panic. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. It means she’s scared. Just like you. And that she’s looking for someone to reassure her.”
I drop my head into my hands. The weight of it all presses down, crushing.
“What if I’ve ruined it?” The words scrape out. “What if she never comes back?”
