Shouting at Her
“Maybe she just couldn't read you and no she isn't Psychic,” he said, smiling. “Just brilliant. Terrifying. But brilliant.”
“I know. It's one of the reasons why I like her a lot.”
“She likes you too,” he said quietly.
I blinked. “Indeed she does. Very much so. Sometimes though I feel like she doesn't know much about me.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “She said once that she trusts people who don’t kiss up to her. You fit that bill.”
“Well, I did catch her sneaking extra lemon tarts from her restricted sugar drawer,” I murmured, biting back a grin.
He laughed again, and I hated how good it sounded. Or maybe I didn’t.
The waiter returned. Rowan ordered quickly—things I didn’t bother pronouncing, just pointing at the same. Coffee was served. Light conversation followed. I found myself relaxing, just a little.
“You always do this?” I asked between sips. “Invite women to secret brunch patios with luxury menus and questionable toast names?”
“Only the ones who’ve saved my life especially knowing how much I had hurt her.”
I glanced up, caught his gaze—and quickly looked back at my plate.
“Fair enough,” I mumbled.
“You still blush when I say things like that.”
I shot him a look. “No, I don’t.”
“You do.”
I took a bite of the—whatever it was—and focused on chewing.
He smirked but didn’t push it.
Instead, he leaned back, eyes scanning the garden around us. “You know… I thought this place would feel different with you here.”
“Different how?”
“Lighter.”
I blinked. “You’re not saying that because I forced you to swap playlists on the drive over?”
“That’s part of it.”
I laughed softly. “Well, you’re welcome.”
He looked at me again—less teasing now. “You really have no idea how much you’ve changed things.”
I shifted in my seat. “Let’s just eat, Vaughn.”
He smiled. “As you wish.”
But I didn’t miss the warmth in his voice. And I hated how my chest reacted—tight and warm like it wasn’t sure what to do with kindness after years of survival mode.
The sun peeked through the ivy above, casting soft patterns over the table.
I chewed slowly, aware of Rowan’s eyes still on me. I avoided his gaze, swirling my fork through the remains of my overly fancy brunch, pretending like I wasn’t flustered. Pretending like I wasn’t still replaying the way he’d looked at me a few minutes ago.
Then—
“Oh my God,” I blurted.
Rowan straightened. “What?”
I blinked. “I can’t believe I forgot.”
He leaned in, frowning slightly. “Forgot what?”
I dropped my fork, pressing my palm to my forehead. “No, no, no. I’m such an idiot—how could I forget something like that?”
His chair scraped a little closer. “Remi.”
“I—” I paused, something in my chest thudding hard.
Rowan reached across the table, gently brushing his thumb across the corner of my lips with a folded napkin. “Crumb,” he said quietly, but the moment felt... different. Slower. His hand hovered for a second longer than necessary. My breath hitched.
“What did you remember?” he asked, his voice lower now.
I swallowed hard.
“I overheard something,” I said finally. “Back at Lady Isolde’s. Something… important. Something I should’ve told you.”
His jaw tensed slightly. “What did you hear?”
I exhaled sharply, like the realization had just slammed into me all over again. “It was about your grandmother. I—”
My eyes widened. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Rowan stood now, eyes sharp. “Remi. What did you hear?”
I stood, pushing my chair back, panic creeping in.
“Remi?”
“I… I can’t believe I forgot,” I whispered.
“Forgot what exactly? Who??” he repeated, more urgent now.
I looked at him. “Gigi.”
He frowned. “What about her?”
I hesitated, biting the inside of my cheek. “I overheard her. That day, at Lady Isolde’s house. She was on the phone with someone—furious—and she said something about… ‘getting rid of the old woman.’”
Rowan froze.
The air between us shifted.
“You’re joking,” he said, voice low, too calm.
“I wish I was.”
He stood abruptly, the chair scraping back. His hands moved to his hips, his eyes burning. “And you’re just telling me now?”
“I didn’t remember! I swear. Everything was chaotic, and—”
“That’s not an excuse,” he snapped.
My chest tightened. “Don’t do that. Don’t take it out on me.”
“You kept something like that to yourself, Remi.” He ran a hand through his hair, stepping away from the table. “That’s not a small thing. That’s—my grandmother.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
Rowan turned, eyes sharp. “You think that changes anything?”
I stood too now, angry. “So what? You’re blaming me for what Gigi might’ve done? For forgetting something in the middle of chaos? I had kids to think about. A life. A friend who was dying!”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at me, breathing hard.
“I’m not your punching bag, Rowan. Don't start with me.”
He exhaled sharply, his jaw flexing. “I’m not—look, I’m not thinking straight.”
“Clearly seems your original personality is coming back ,asshole.”
He looked down, silent for a moment. Then, softly, “I’m sorry. I really am. Attitude issues unfortunately are hard to push away. I am really really sorry Remi.”
I didn’t answer. I just sat back down, arms crossed, my appetite completely gone.
Rowan came back to the table. He didn’t sit.
“I’ll have Gigi watched,” he said quietly. “And whoever she’s talking to.”
I looked up. “Good.”
Another silence fell over us, heavy but calmer this time.
Then he asked, voice rough, “Why didn’t you tell me the moment you remembered?”
I met his gaze. “Because I was scared it slipped my mind. And the stress and everything. Also I just remembered. Hence I am telling you now and I am sorry that I didn't say it sooner. I wished I did. I care for her too you know.”
That hit something in him. His gaze looked down and he sighed. “I know and I am glad. You also don't have to apologize.”
He nodded once. “I should be the one apologizing.”
I wanted to say something like you think but I kept quiet. He already acknowledged his wrongs.
We sat there, quiet again, the air a little less charged. Still raw. Still real.
“I’m going to make some calls,” Rowan said finally, backing away from the table. “You… stay here. Don’t go anywhere alone.”
I didn’t ar
gue.
He turned to leave, but just before he disappeared down the hall, he glanced back over his shoulder.
“I’m glad you told me,” he said. “Even if it’s late.”
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