Chapter 14

14

The meeting should have ended an hour ago, but it was dragging on like an anchor in the sand. Daegan’s patience had worn thin, though his outward calm betrayed none of it. Every tick of the clock felt like a jab to his ribs, a reminder of all the other things demanding his attention—things far more pressing than another circular discussion.

“So,” Daegan interrupted, cutting through the room’s idle chatter, “are we finished with updates on new construction and potential properties?” He leaned forward, knuckles pressing into the polished wood of the table.

The room grew silent, with only a sea of nods.

“Nothing more about the properties along the coast in Florida? That would make a great resort area.” Daegan directed his question at Judy.

“They won’t budge off their initial amount. I’ve tried for weeks,” Judy responded.

“That’s too overpriced. They’re crazy. You can tell them Mr. Westerhouse said when they’re tired of sitting on it and want it sold, call me.”

“Yes, Mr. Westerhouse,” Judy replied, scribbling down a note.

“Mr. Westerhouse,” Thomas spoke up. “Any news on the property that Kinsley owns? Is she willing to sell?”

The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes fixed on him.

Daegan paused, a warmth coming over him with a nervousness he rarely felt. How could he go back to talking about Kinsley’s house like it was just another piece of land? It was her family history, and here he was, discussing it as if it were a line item on a budget sheet.

“I’m working on it, Thomas. It’s a...delicate matter,” he said evenly, his words carefully measured. “Situations like this require time, understanding, and care.” Daegan’s voice was firm. He couldn’t let them know he was having doubts, especially after the weekend they had spent in each other’s arms.

“But it’s still a possibility?” Thomas asked.

“Absolutely,” he said, the word heavy on his tongue. “I’m working on it.”

The lie felt like a splinter lodged in his chest. He wasn’t working on it—not in the way they thought. What he was working on was convincing himself that losing the house might be worth it, if it meant he could keep Kinsley. And yet, his silence made him complicit in the game they all thought he was playing.

As the meeting adjourned and the room emptied, Daegan remained seated, staring at the folder in front of him. The sleek cover bore a list of properties, numbers, opportunities—all of it meaningless compared to that old mauve Victorian with the sagging white picket fence.

For the first time in his career, he questioned if success was worth the cost. Kinsley wasn’t a line item. She was the only thing that had ever made him wonder what life could be like beyond the cold, calculated world of his career.

Kinsley’s heart shattered. How could he forget that she was responsible for listening to all his meetings and taking notes? The words she had just typed into her file felt like a knife twisting in her gut.

But there it was.

Proof.

Undeniable.

All this time, while Kinsley had been falling deeper and deeper for Daegan, his motives had remained unchanged. It wasn’t about her; it was about the house. It had always been about the house. The very thought made her feel sick and ashamed. How was she going to even walk out of this building? She’d never been so utterly humiliated.

The hollow ache in her chest intensified, a cold and unmistakable void where warmth and hope had once blossomed. The joy and connection she had found was nothing more than an illusion. In its place, only the bitter truth remained: she was alone, and she always would be.

Granny had always been her rock, her guiding light. Without her wisdom and comfort, Kinsley found herself adrift, desperately searching for the strength to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and carry on. Her hands trembled, clammy with shock and disbelief. Her breath caught in her throat, and a chill raced down her spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Just hours earlier, she had been gushing to Laurel about the incredible man she was falling for, her heart soaring with each word of praise. She had painted a picture of a future filled with love and happiness. Now, the very thought of facing her co-worker had acid burning the back of her throat.

The man she had begun to love, the one who had brought light back into her life, was just an actor playing a role. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow. She was helpless to replay every touch, every word, every kiss. Had it all been calculated? A well-played chess move in his master plan? The humiliation hit her in waves—hot, then cold, cheeks burning even as a chill crept down her spine.

She packed her belongings with methodical precision, her movements robotic. Each item she placed in her bag felt heavier than the last. She avoided Daegan’s gaze at all costs. If she met his eyes, she might crumble—or worse, make a scene the whole office would hear.

When Kinsley reached the door, she forced her voice to remain steady. “Goodnight, Mr. Westerhouse,” she said, the formality a deliberate wall between them.

“Goodnight, Kins,” he replied, his tone warm, almost hopeful.

She didn’t turn around as the door shut behind her.

The hot evening air hit her like a slap, sharp and bracing. Her heart felt raw, exposed, like an open wound. Her thoughts spiraled, her trust in him splintering even as the memory of his tenderness fought to hold on.

As she reached her car, she stopped, leaning against the driver’s side door. The tears finally came, silent and scalding, carving paths down her cheeks. But with each tear shed, something else stirred within her—a spark of resolve. She had survived too much, endured too many losses, to let this break her.

Kinsley straightened, wiping her face with a shaking hand. She wasn’t sure what Daegan’s true intentions were, but one thing was clear—she needed to protect herself, her heart, and her home. She would confront him when she was ready, and she would demand the truth. If he was playing her, she would walk away with her head held high, knowing she had loved deeply, even if it hadn’t mattered.

And if he wasn’t?

She let out a shaky breath as she started the car.

He’ll have to prove it.

“Laurel, have you seen Kinsley today? I thought she would be here by now. She usually comes by in the morning or at least sends me an email.” Daegan’s voice was ripe with worry, especially after she had left yesterday without so much as a glance back.

“Oh, she called this morning and said she didn’t think she would make it in,” Laurel said. “She said she wasn’t feeling well and didn’t get a good sleep last night.”

“Oh.” Daegan was confused. Wouldn’t Kinsley send him an email or text at the very least?

“Hmm…” Laurel mused. “But between you and me, Mr. Westerhouse,” she lowered her voice, “she told me yesterday that she has been seeing somebody.” Laurel giggled, always the gossiper. “So, I do wonder if maybe she saw him last night and had a little too much to drink, stayed the night, and… Oh, you know how it is.”

Daegan’s body burned as his fingers gripped the desk. “Did she say his name?” His voice was almost demanding. His body stiffened, his jaw tightening until he heard something in his face snap.

“No, I don’t believe so. But it seems like things are getting pretty serious from how she explained it to me.” Laurel shrugged, completely unaware of the storm brewing. “Anyway, I think it’s sweet. She deserves to be happy, don’t you think?”

Daegan swallowed hard, forcing himself to maintain his composure. “Thanks, Laurel. Sorry to cut you short, I just have to hurry and get some work done. I’ll be leaving at one to head to the Miami office. I’ll be back Sunday, though.” His chest tightened.

“Oh no problem, Mr. Westerhouse.”

Kinsley had been seeing someone this whole time, yet she’d led Daegan on like a carrot dangling in front of his aunt’s horse. The thought clawed at him, refusing to let go. Had she been playing him this entire time? That kiss on the balcony, the way she’d looked at him, her vulnerability when they were together—had it all been a lie? Was this why she’d left their dinner so abruptly?

You knew better, Westerhouse.

His mind raced, searching for answers. She had seemed distant yesterday, sure, but this? This didn’t make sense. Kinsley wasn’t the type to toy with someone’s feelings, and yet… He had never asked about Cameron. He’d had so many chances to, but never once did he summon up the courage to just ask.

She’s not yours, he reminded himself bitterly. She was never yours to begin with.

They weren’t officially anything, and yet to him, their intimacy had meant something. It wasn’t casual. Not for him. He thought it hadn’t been for her, either. But maybe he’d misjudged her. Maybe Kinsley wasn’t the person he thought she was.

Daegan paced his office, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to confront her, demand answers, but what right did he have? She hadn’t made any promises.

The bottom line was: he had to get to the Miami office and get these properties sorted. Kinsley needed to be the last thing on his mind if he wanted to get this work done, and he had to. This company was counting on him. Perhaps Kinsley had sorted out their problems for him—he didn’t need to ask her to leave, or to pursue something else. She was his personal assistant.

And only his personal assistant.

The words rang hollow in his mind, but he forced himself to believe them as he grabbed his briefcase and packed for even warmer weather.

One day away from Westerhouse Investments Group hadn’t solved anything. Kinsley was still fuming when she walked in Friday morning, but she tamed it down behind a cold smile and a simple, professional outfit that gave away absolutely nothing. Daegan was always the first one to his work, and yet his office was silent. His computer wasn’t even warm. Turning on her heel, she marched to Tina’s down the hall.

“Have you seen Mr. Westerhouse?” Kinsley asked, popping her head inside.

Tina whirled around in her chair. “He didn’t tell you?” Tina acted shocked, almost like Kinsley was playing a prank.

“No—what do you mean?”

“Mr. Westerhouse left at one yesterday to head to the Miami office. I don’t think Roger is going to have a job after this one.” Tina rolled her eyes, stifling a small chuckle.

“He left?” Kinsley sat down across from her, trying not to let her emotions come through. “I had no idea he was leaving.”

“It could have been in error.” Tina turned back to her computer. “He left in a hurry yesterday to head down to Miami. It was all very last-minute and since you weren’t here, he probably figured he had to just go it alone,” Tina tried to reassure her.

Alone. That’s what all this circled back to. Love had only ever led Kinsley to being alone.

The only difference in this moment was that she knew Daegan had to return; this was his company, after all. But the fact that he could pick up and leave at a moment’s notice, without even saying goodbye, left her rattled. If he could do this now, what would he do in a serious relationship? The very same thing. At the very least, he could have called to see if she was feeling well, and tell her that he’d be out of town for a while.

Kinsley didn’t know why it seemed to matter; she didn’t matter to him. He had only been going after her house. This was just more proof to the point.

Tina must have been studying her for a long time before she spoke. “He cares about you, Kinsley. I see the way you two look at each other, those small glances and secret smiles. I’ve known that son-of-a-gun for his whole life and I can tell you right now that the chemistry the two of you share is nothing like I’ve seen him have with any other woman, including that whore he was set to marry.” Tina remarked, not mincing her words. “Since you arrived, he’s…changed. He’s different, better I think.”

Kinsley shook her head, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “I can’t do this anymore, Tina,” she said, her voice trembling, though not wanting to admit it all. “I just… I can’t.”

Tina’s voice was soft, but didn’t press. “What are you saying, Kinsley?”

Kinsley inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. Her hands clenched into fists before releasing, letting go of something she realized was never hers to begin with. “I quit.”

Tina’s eyes widened. “Kinsley, wait?—”

But Kinsley was already standing, her decision made. Enough was enough. If Daegan couldn’t respect her or her boundaries, then staying was only going to hurt her more.

“I’m sorry, Tina,” she said, her voice firm, even as tears threatened to spill over. “I need to put myself first for once.”

And with that, Kinsley turned and walked out, leaving behind the office, the job, and the man who had both mended and broken her heart. But as she stepped into the elevator, her hand hovering over the button to take her down, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was leaving a piece of herself with it.

Daegan’s thumb hovered over the screen as another call went to voicemail. A heavy weight settled beneath his ribs. He swallowed hard; the instructions on the line to leave a message sounded hollow. Her voice was always so warm and bright. He had tried calling Kinsley twice, but the line didn’t even ring. His few texts had gone unanswered. Despite the growing rift between them, Daegan couldn’t help but worry about Kinsley.

If she truly wasn’t feeling well, if she was suffering alone, he wanted to be there for her—a shoulder to lean on, a comforting presence in her time of need. It was the decent thing to do, the right thing, even if their romantic future was uncertain. But a small, insidious voice in the back of his mind whispered harsh truths—maybe her illness was a convenient excuse, a way to avoid the messy, uncomfortable conversation they both knew was coming. Maybe she was tired of him. Maybe she didn’t care as much as he did.

As the hours ticked by with no word, Daegan felt his resolve harden to a bitter acceptance. Perhaps this was a sign, a cruel but necessary reminder that their relationship was not meant to be.

How could he build a future with someone who kept secrets, who hid parts of herself away? His jaw tightened as the image of Kinsley turning to a man he’d never met for comfort, seeking solace in a stranger’s arms, stabbed through him. It was a betrayal he couldn’t fathom, a wound that cut deeper than he could have imagined.

With each passing moment, Daegan felt the distance between them growing. The once-vibrant connection they had shared, the spark that had ignited a flame of hope, had flickered and died. In its place were only the cold ashes of what might have been.

As much as it pained him, Daegan knew that he had to let this go. He couldn’t spend his days chasing after a woman who didn’t trust him, who couldn’t be honest with him. But how could he? His jacket still smelled like her. Hell, his whole office did. She had come into his life and filled every available space.

He thought of the way her eyes sparkled when she teased him at work, the warmth of her touch when she placed a hand on his arm. Those moments had felt so effortless, so right. But now, they felt hollow.

With a heavy sigh, Daegan made his decision, though every part of him resisted it. He would step back—not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. For her. For himself. Maybe she needed space. If that was what it took to prove he cared, then he would give it to her, even if it tore him apart. If she wanted to talk, he would be there to listen. But he wouldn’t keep grasping for something she wasn’t ready to give.

Yet as he stared down at his phone one last time, hoping for a response that never came, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly the end. If stepping back now meant losing her forever. And that thought—more than anything else—was what terrified him most.