Page 79 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

“I just don’t understand,” Ethan said bitterly after a beat. “If you knew all along, knew the connection, knew about…about me, about her, why would you keep it from me? How did I even—what were the odds that I would get this job without either of us knowing who the other was?”

“That was something beyond my control,” Hank admitted. “At least when it came to you finding the position. Even when you first started with us. I didn’t bother to learn about the low-ranking employees, at least not on a personal basis. If you were doing your job and doing it well, that was all I cared about. But you moved up the ranks quickly, didn’t you?” He looked at Ethan admiringly, maybe even with a touch of pride. “You made sure you were noticed.”

“So you expect me to believe that it was all a coincidence? You, Julia, her family, me, and the way I tie into all of it?This?” Ethan swept his arms out, encompassing the room. “With all due respect, Mr. Fordham—”

“Hank,” her grandfather interrupted. “You’ve called me Henry before, might as well make it Hank now.”

“With all due respect,Mr. Fordham,” Ethan repeated through gritted teeth, “I can’t help but feel a bit manipulated.”

And hadn’t they all been, Julia thought wryly. Hank had manipulated her as well, in a sense. Knowing that she was out there at the bed-and-breakfast, sending Ethan to her or at least steering him in that direction, orchestrating this whole reunion without her knowledge. Not telling her that he was Ethan’s boss despite being aware of the connection.

Once their relationship had been a bit more established, shehad confided in Hank about Ethan. The rawness of his lack of communication was still an open wound in the months following that fated night, and she’d had to talk about him tosomeone. Her dad had never been good for those heart-to-hearts. The friends she’d had from college would have encouraged her to move on; they wouldn’t have understood. And anyone who had known them from high school was long gone—relationships had fizzled out almost the moment geographic proximity to one another ceased to be a thing. She was a bit…alone, admittedly.

So an elderly widower grandfather—her maternal grandmother had passed years prior, before Julia had even had a chance to get to know her—seemed as good a confidant as any.

And he was a good listener, she found. He was able to cut to the core of any issue, offer advice when needed, and just listen when advice was not warranted or necessary. Maybe he had manipulated things a bit between them now, but whatever he had been to her before, the relationship that had developed, that was real.

The money she didn’t see as manipulation, either—it was more about what had happened to her mother, the life she had led, the mistakes she had made, but also the decisions she had made, a way to do right by her once more in the end. Julia no longer felt anger toward her. Instead, there was love, and profound sadness. For the way everyone had failed her mother in her life and the way she had still tried to do the best she could in the best way she knew how.

Julia had spent weeks hating Hank initially. Thinking about his failures as a father. How those failures had impacted her own life. After a while, however, she’d realized everyone lived in a torment of their own making. Hank, Julia, her father, hermother…It wasn’t easy for anyone to break free of that, to live a life of purpose. The life they were meant to lead. Julia was trying to, albeit almost failing at that as well. Could her grandfather say the same?

Could Ethan?

“I will admit to a small amount of manipulation,” Hank said grudgingly, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Only when it came to arranging this trip. Other than that, I have been totally hands-off on all aspects of your career. After all, it was only in the last year that I truly knew who you were.”

“And you’ve been trying to get me to come up here ever since,” Ethan said, looking as though something was slowly dawning on him. “The number of times you’ve mentioned bed-and-breakfasts near the Finger Lakes for PR retreats or celebrity refuges or places to orchestrate a few well-timed social media photos.” He shook his head slowly, amazed and furious. “Why couldn’t you justtell me, damn it?”

“Would you have listened?” Julia and Hank said simultaneously, inflections so similar they looked at each other, both startled.

Ethan looked startled as well, like he’d seen a ghost. Then finally he shook his head.

“I have to go,” he said, standing up abruptly.

“What do you mean?” Julia asked incredulously, standing up as well. “I know you said before that you were going to go back to New York, but you can’t leave now!”

“Gem.” He said it intentionally, without apology. “I just need some space. I need time to think.”

Hank spoke up. “Ethan, come now. Surely this is something we can all discuss.”

Ethan shook his head slowly, bracing his hand on the backof the chair. He turned as if to go, then seemingly thought better of it. Julia watched as he appeared to chew on his thoughts, jaw clenching and unclenching. When he finally chose to speak, his voice was raw, filled with pent-up emotion that brought tears to Julia’s eyes.

“All my life, I’ve been the one trying to prove I belonged. To my parents, who never thoughtjust one kidwas good enough. To friends who expected me to be perfect and funny and on point all the time without ever really knowing who I was. To every damn person who looked at me and just saw something temporary—a fun time to fill the space between important moments. And you.” He turned to Julia, unshed tears in his eyes as well. “You were always the one person who didn’t make me feel that way. Who made me feel worth something. Like I didn’t have to prove myself. Like I had someone to care about, who cared about me, too. Someone who I could be myself with.” He swiped angrily at his face, scrubbing any remnants of tears away. “And then even you—” He laughed under his breath, the sound brittle. “You went and proved I was right about myself all along. When my parents offered you the cottage—ourplace—and you said yes before even talking to me about it. Assuming I’d go along with your plans. An afterthought. A helper. Do you have any idea what that felt like? To find out the one thing that ever meant anything to me was handed off to someone else…like I was never really part of it to begin with?”

Julia felt a lump in her throat so big, so powerful, she didn’t know if she could breathe past it. It inhibited her ability to speak in a way that was different from her panic attacks. No, this felt like…guilt. Regret.

She had never heard Ethan talk like this, never known this was how he really felt. He had never told her! But maybe thathad been part of the problem—she had always envisioned him a certain way and expected him to live up to those expectations. Her golden god. But he wasn’t infallible—he was human, too. And maybe her biggest mistake had been not recognizing that when he needed her the most.

He shook his head, his voice roughening further. “I get it now. They didn’t think I could handle it. That I’d screw it up, not take it seriously enough, let it fall by the wayside like all my other grand plans. And you—maybe you thought the same thing. Maybe it was easier to just take it for yourself and not look back. Not fight for me to be a part of it. But for me? This place was everything. It was home.” His voice cracked as he added, “It was home because ofyou.”

A sob escaped her, and she brought a shaky hand to her lips. An apology felt inadequate. Even Hank looked stunned into silence, watching Ethan with consternation and regret in his features.

Ethan had dropped his head into his hands for a brief moment, appearing to gather himself, before he looked up again, eyes clear once more. The mask had resettled; the vulnerable man she’d seen a moment ago had vanished, and the god she’d always imagined—composed, untouchable—was standing in his place. With a hollow ache, she realized he’d retreated somewhere she could no longer follow.

The only thing she could do now was let him go.

27

2001