But he’d realised soon enough that that wasn’t going to happen—when had she demanded anything from him anyway?—and he’d figured that he had done the right thing. Especially since he had been the one to make the decision that had caused the heartbreak they’d suffered in the first place.
‘Your father spoke to me about a reunion between the two of us.’
He turned his head to her when she spoke. Her voice held that same music he had heard the first time they’d met.
‘In his last few months. He wanted us to be together again.’
She opened her eyes, and Jordan had to brace himself against what the pain he saw there did to him. Against the anguish that disappointment was the last thing his father had felt about him.
He cleared his throat. ‘I suppose that gives this situation some meaning. He wanted us to plan an event like the one where we met. He knew that still being married would mean we would have to bend to his will. Unless we can show that he was unfit when he made it.’
‘I don’t think that will work.’
She shook her head, and he wondered why she kept tying her hair up when those curls were meant to be free.
‘He was completely sane—his heart attacks had nothing to do with his ability to make rational decisions.’
‘What’s rational about this?’
She lowered her eyes. ‘Nothing. Of course, nothing. But making an emotional decision isn’t against the law.’
‘It should be.’
‘Maybe.’ She looked at him stoically. ‘But he isn’t the first person to do that in this family, so I think we can forgive him.’
Jordan found himself at a loss for words, unsure of what she meant. Was she talking about when she’d asked him to go, or the fact that he had left? Regardless of their meaning, her words surprised him. She hadn’t given him any indication that she regretted what had happened between them... But then again, she wasn’t exactly saying that now either.
But still, the feeling threw him. And because he didn’t like it, he addressed the situation at hand.
‘It doesn’t seem like we’re going to get out of this before our time is up, Mila.’
‘Out of this...? You mean out of our marriage?’
Why did the question make him feel so strange?
He cleared his throat. ‘Yes. The divorce—the one we thought we had—was supposed to take six weeks, and that’s as much time as we have to make sure the will’s terms are met. So...’ he took a deep breath ‘...what would you say about putting the divorce off until we’ve planned the event, and then we can take it from there?’
She briefly closed her eyes again, and then looked at him, her expression guarded. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Exactly what I said.’
Her guard had slipped enough for him to see a complexity of emotion that reflected the complexity of their predicament.
‘I lose in this situation either way. If I help you, we’ll get the inheritance, sure, but I would still have to sell my share to you. So what do I get out of this besides spending time with the man I thought I would never have to see again?’
It took him a moment to process what she was saying, and even then he found it difficult to formulate an answer. ‘You’ll get money. I’ll pay you for the share of the vineyard my father left you.’
‘Money? Money?’ She pulled her head back as though she had been slapped. ‘I can’t believe that we’re still married.’
Her words felt like a slap to him, too, but the shame that ran through him at his own words made him realise that maybe he’d deserved it. He was surprised that she had said it—she would never have done so before—but that didn’t make it any less true.
‘I’m sorry, Mila, I didn’t mean that.’ He sighed. ‘This has been a shock to me, too.’
She nodded, though the coldness coming from her made him wonder if she really did accept his apology.
‘You know money isn’t an incentive for me,’ she said after a few moments, her voice back to being neutral. ‘Especially since selling you my share of the vineyard would mean that I lose the only thing I have left of someone I thought of as family.’
His heart ached at that because he understood it. But the logical side of him—the side that didn’t care too much for emotions—made him ask, ‘If you didn’t want to sell your share of the vineyard to me, why did you say you would?’
‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t sell. I just want you to understand what I’m giving up so that you won’t say something so insensitive again.’
He was beginning to feel like a schoolchild who was being taught a lesson. ‘What do you want, then, Mila?’
‘I want—’ Her voice was husky, her face twisted in pain. But it disappeared almost as quickly as it came, and she cleared her throat. ‘I want to sell the house and the car—everything, really, that was a part of our life together.’
Pain flared through him, and the only way he knew how to control it was to pretend it didn’t affect him at all. ‘Why?’
‘To get rid of everything so that I can move—’ She broke off, and then continued, ‘Move away.’ She said the last two words deliberately, as though she was struggling to formulate them. ‘I haven’t been able to sort things out since you left. The past year I’ve been busy. Looking after Greg, planning some events and...’
Getting over you, he thought she might say, and he held his breath, waiting for the words. But they didn’t come.
‘Your help would be useful so that by the time the vineyard is yours, I’ll have something to move on to.’
‘Where will you go?’ he asked when it finally registered that she wanted to move away.
She raised her eyes to his, and they brimmed with the emotion he thought he carried in his heart.
‘I’m still working on that part.’
Hearing her say that she was leaving was more difficult than he could have imagined. He couldn’t figure out why that was when he had done the same thing.
‘Are you sure you’re not sacrificing more than I am?’
She smiled a little at that. ‘I’m sure.’
Her smile told him all he needed to know. That he needed to help her so he could help himself. Once this was all over he would have the vineyard his parents had owned and would be able to live up to the promises he’d made to them. Maybe he would even be able to make restitution for the decisions he’d made during his short marriage and finally find some peace.
‘So if I agree to help you deal with everything from when we were married, you’ll agree to plan the event and then sell your inheritance to me?’
‘Yes.’
‘And then we’ll file for divorce again?’
‘We?’
The hope he thought he’d extinguished earlier threatened to ignite again at the uncertainty in her voice. But then he remembered that he was the one who had filed for divorce the first time, and she was probably just checking whether that would be the case again.
‘You,’ he clarified. ‘We might as well even the score since we have the chance.’
He could have kicked himself when he saw the