Dylan could only hide from her for so long. Eventually the holidays arrived, and we all had no choice but to come together. Break bread. Drink wine. All that good stuff.
And that promise Dylan had made to me? He’d broken it just as quickly as he’d given it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Samira?” Someone pounded on the shed door and I gasped, slapping the journal in my hand shut. I hopped up, shoving it into one of the boxes and then hurrying for the door.
Roland was on the other side, still dressed in his pajamas, along with a puffy black coat. Just behind him, the moon was wading its way through the fog, revealing a ground still peppered in snow.
“Hey,” I breathed, holding the door halfway open. “What are you doing up?”
“Me? What the hell are you doing out here? I was looking for you all over the house.”
“Sorry—I wanted to get an early start on clearing more of the stuff out.”
“At three in the morning? Last I checked, you hate mornings. Samira, what the hell is going on? Why are you out here?”
I hesitated, unsure what to tell him. Last night, I left the bed and went to the relaxation room to read more of the second journal. But then I finished the second journal and it left me with more questions, so I went back to our bedroom and to the closet, changed into thermal pants and a sweater, and then hit the mudroom for my coat and boots.
I ended up in the shed, pulling down journal three to read more while sitting on the green desk chair.
“I’m sorry.” I sighed. “I’ll come back to bed. I just can’t stop thinking about this shed and making it my own.”
He gave me a funny look, one that made me think for a moment that he didn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth, but then he sighed too and extended his arm, offering a hand to me. “Come on.”
I left the shed with him and made the trek back to the mansion, but not without giving the shed one last glance back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I ate breakfast in town with Roland. After our three AM bump in the night, I really needed to give him all of my attention. And after reading Melanie’s journals, I felt guilty and icky about all of it—sorting her things, selling it, reading her words—yet and still, something about what she was writing didn’t feel right. But now, it wasn’t so much about Roland. My thoughts had shifted to Dylan.
I had no idea Dylan lived in the mansion before. While I lived in the mansion, Dylan had his own place in town. Neither of them had mentioned Dylan staying here, which you’d think would have come up in conversation at least once since marrying Roland.
“You can’t scare me like you did last night, babe,” Roland said when our meals arrived at the table.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“No, seriously. I get déjà vu with situations like that.”
My brows peaked. “What do you mean?”
He picked up his fork and sighed. “Melanie used to have a lot of moments where she’d disappear.”
I froze at the mention of Melanie. “She did?”
“All the time and it really used to annoy the hell out of me.”
“Moments like when?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged hard and cut into his omelet. “Closer to when she passed away, I guess.”
“Wow. Do you think something was wrong? Or that she was hiding something?”
He gave me a stern eye. “I know she was hiding something.”
“Like what?” An affair?
Roland brought a cut of the omelet to his mouth. “I don’t know. But she became distant and I don’t want that with you, Samira. I want you to be open and honest with me. Always.”
I nodded, lowering my gaze to my pancakes. “Why do you think her sister never got back to you about getting her things?”
I risked the chance of looking up and he was already staring at me. “Why do you have so many questions about her today?”
I stacked my spine defensively. “I’m just asking.”
He lowered his fork. “Did you find something in the shed I should know about?”
“No—no, nothing like that. I’m just curious. There are a lot of valuable things in there, is all.” I used my fork to cut my pancakes. “I’m going to call my brother tonight.” No, I wasn’t going to call, but I had to change the subject to something more important. Something current. Roland knew about Kell and how much my brother hated the idea of me being with him, so this was relevant to both of us. No Melanie. No Miley. Back to us.
“Are you?”
“Yes. I miss talking to him. And I think I should finally tell him about us.”
“He’ll be upset, Samira. Not only because you went against his word about staying away from me, but also because you got married to me and didn’t even let your own brother know.”