“You do.” I hesitate for only a moment. “And I’m sick of it.”
Without warning, she hauls the pillow at me, and it smacks me in the head. “If you’re so sick of me, get out!”
I stand, grabbing hold of my trousers and jerking them on before I throw the shirt over my shoulders, not bothering to button it. “I walk out that door right now, I might never come back in.”
I mean it. I’m tired of the back and forth with this girl. Nothing is normal. Nothing is stable. I want to help her but…
Most of the time, she won’t let me.
“Good. I don’t want you to come back. Just go. Abandon me like everyone else does.” Her voice is strained, like she might start crying at any moment, and for one second, I want to go to her.
Comfort her.
Instead, I slip on my shoes and leave, annoyance flaring through my blood, making it run hot.
I’m tired of being used by a Lancaster.
I’m not going to let it happen again.
NINE
SYLVIE
The call cameout of the blue, as only the best calls can, and I’m at my lawyer’s office the next day, anxious to know what he wanted to talk to me about. I decide there’s no need for niceties or small conversation. The moment I settle into the chair across from his desk, I ask why he called me in.
Sterling Cavanaugh tries to hide the smile that barely curves his mouth when he ducks his head, flipping open the folder sitting before him on his desk. “Your husband’s attorney got in touch with me yesterday morning.”
Dread coats my stomach, making it churn. “What about?”
“It seems that he left you a little something no one else knew about.” He pulls a sheet of paper from the folder and hands it over. I take it from him, frowning at the photo of the ocean view at the top. “A house.”
“A house?” I study the other photos of the lodge-like structure nestled among the forest. “Where at?”
“California. Over one hundred acres on the Big Sur coast.” When I glance up at Sterling, I find he’s already watching me, a faint smile on his face. “It’s a rare piece, Sylvie. Dense redwood forest and pristine coastline. There’s nothing else like it. The house is over six thousand square feet, and was originally built in the 1920s.”
My entire body vibrates with barely contained excitement. “Are you sure this belongs to me?”
“You weren’t mentioned in the will at all, and I believe Earl realized it just before his death. That’s why he put the house in your name. According to his attorney, it’s been in his family for only a short amount of time. He picked it up a few years prior to your marriage,” Sterling explains.
“Why don’t his children want it?” I study the photos again, frowning when I take in the interior shots. It appears to have been remodeled, but not recently.
“They didn’t know it existed.”
“And once they find out, they’ll come after me.”
He shakes his head. “They can’t. The house is untouchable by the estate. It wasn’t even put into the estate. His children have no legal say in who it does or doesn’t go to.”
I’m frowning. This makes no sense. “Why not?”
“Because it was put into your name.” Sterling hands over another document. A deed.
I snatch it from his fingers, my gaze roaming over the legal language, zeroing in on my name in black and white.
Sylvie Lancaster. He didn’t even put it in my married name, not that I ever had it legally changed.
Hmm. The man did right by me for once.
“So this house is mine.” I switch the papers, so I’m looking at the house images again.