Chapter 7
She chose the armchair near the window.
Nicholas watched her settle into it.
“You’re too far,” he said quietly.
Iris’s fingers tightened around the blanket she had taken from the closet.
“Do you want the truth?” she asked.
“From you? Always.”
“I’m afraid if I come closer, I won’t know how to go back.”
His eyes held hers.
The room went still.
Nicholas looked as though he might say something that would ruin them both, but instead he lifted one hand and placed it palm-up on the empty side of the bed.
Not an order.
Not a demand.
An invitation.
Iris stood slowly.
She crossed the room and lay down on top of the covers, leaving space between them at first. The mattress dipped. Nicholas turned his head toward her, and in the dim light his eyes looked almost black.
“Still there?” he asked after a while.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His hand found hers beneath the edge of the blanket.
He did not pull her closer.
He simply held on.
Minutes passed, or hours. Iris could not tell. Nicholas’s breathing grew steadier. His thumb moved once across her knuckles, as though confirming she was real.
“I changed the will already,” he murmured.
Iris opened her eyes.
“What?”
“Not tomorrow. Last week.”
She turned her head toward him.
His eyes remained closed.
“I lied at dinner.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see your face when I said it. I wanted to know if you’d look hungry.”
The words landed cold.
Iris pulled her hand back.
Nicholas opened his eyes at once.
“No,” he said, urgent now. “No, that came out wrong.”
“It sounded clear enough.”
“Iris, listen to me.”
She sat up.
The softness between them shattered like glass.
“So this was a test?” she whispered. “All of it?”
“No.”
“You wanted to know if the maid would get greedy?”
“I wanted to know if anyone in my life still saw me and not the estate.”
“And did I pass?”
The question was quiet.
That made it worse.
Nicholas pushed himself up, pain flashing across his face. “I deserved that.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
She laughed once, without humor. “Rich men always are, right after the insult.”
His face changed.
He looked struck.
“I didn’t leave you money,” he said.
Iris stilled.
“I left you control.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?”
May you like
Nicholas reached toward the nightstand, opened the drawer, and removed a sealed envelope. He handed it to her with a trembling hand.
Her name was written across the front.
