Chapter 8 - THE HOUSE WITH FIVE EMPTY BEDROOMS
Isabella's attorney recommended that she temporarily stay somewhere with better security.
I offered one of my vacant guest properties.
She refused immediately.
“I won't be indebted to you.”
I respected that.
So Daniel arranged a short-term rental through an independent agency, with a written agreement and a clear payment plan Isabella could manage.
The girls were disappointed.
“Why can't we stay with Mr. Alexander?” Grace asked.
Isabella sighed.
“Because he has his own life.”
Grace looked at me.
“Do you have a big house?”
“Yes.”
“Does it have a playground?”
“No.”
She frowned.
“Then what's the point?”
Ethan burst out laughing.
I stared at my son.
It was the loudest laugh I'd heard from him in months.
That evening, as I drove him home, he asked:
“Can they visit again?”
I glanced at him.
“You like them?”
He shrugged.
“They're okay.”
“Just okay?”
He looked out the window.
“Grace is funny.”
I smiled.
“And Emma?”
“Smart.”
“Olivia?”
“Annoying.”
“Because she beat you at racing?”
He scowled.
“She cheated.”
“And Sophie?”
He hesitated.
“She reminds me of Mom.”
My smile faded.
Ethan looked down.
“She makes sure everyone has gloves.”
I swallowed.
His mother had done that.
Every winter.
Even when she was exhausted.
I reached across the console and squeezed his hand.
May you like
He squeezed back.
And I realized our family had been lonely in ways I hadn't fully understood.
