Chapter Four
The gardens are exactly how I remember them.Perfectly manicured hedges. Rose bushes that bloom year-round because we have a team that makes sure of it.
Stone pathways that wind through sections designed by some landscape architect whose name I can't remember.
Alexander stands by the fountain, looking like he's posing for a photoshoot.
"Isabelle." He turns when he hears my footsteps. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Well,you flew across the Atlantic, so it seemed rude not to."
His lips curved into a slight smile. "I would have flown much farther."
I stop a few feet away, maintaining distance. "What are you doing here, Alexander?"
"You know why I'm here."
"Do I?"
"You've been gone for years, you even married someone—" He pauses, and I can see him choosing his words carefully. "Someone inappropriate. That marriage has ended and now you're home."
"So you thought you'd swoop in?"
"I thought I'd remind you of what you left behind." He takes a step closer. "We were supposed to get married, Isabelle. Five years ago. Do you remember?"
"I remember running away from that wedding, yes."
"And your absurd reason was that you wanted to find real love." His voice doesn't change, but there's something sharp underneath it. "How did that work out for you huh?"
The words land like a slap."Careful, Alexander."I say hiding my clenched fists.
"I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to make you see reality." He moves closer, and I resist the urge to step back. "You tested love in a vacuum. You wanted to know if someone could love you without your name, your money, your status and you got your answer."
"I'm well aware of my choice"
"So stop running from what makes sense." He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. "We were matched by our families for a reason. Our empires complement each other. Our futures align. We've known each other since we were children."
"That's not love, Alexander, that's a merger."
"Why can't it be both?" He opens the box.The ring inside is huge. I immediately recognize it from photographs. It belonged to his great-grandmother. She was a duchess or countess, I couldn't remember. "This has been in my family for four generations," Alexander says. "It was always meant for you."
"Alexander—"
"I waited, Isabelle. When you ran, I could have married anyone. God knows there were options but I waited because I knew you'd come back. I knew you'd realize that what we have—what we could have—is stronger than whatever fantasy you were chasing."
He takes my hand. I let him, mostly because I'm too stunned to pull away.
"Marry me," he says. "Finish what we started, let's build something real together. Something that will last centuries, not just years."
I look at the ring,then at his face. I stare at the absolute certainty in his eyes that I'm going to say yes and I realize something.
Alexander doesn't love me, he just loves the idea of completing a transaction that was interrupted. He loves symmetry and tradition and the neat storyline of childhood sweethearts who always knew they'd end up together.
He doesn't know me, he doesn't know that I hate roses because the smell gives me headaches. He doesn't know that I ugly cry during sad movies or that I stress bake at two AM. He doesn't know anything except the version of me that existed at family dinners and society events.The version I'm not sure was ever real.
"I can't," I say quietly.His hand tightens on mine.
"You can't or won't?"
"Both." I answered codly
"Is it because of Marcus Chen?"
"No,for Pete sake, I just got divorced, Alexander and I'm not ready to jump into another arrangement that's about everything except how I actually feel."
"And how do you feel?"
"I am tired," I admit. "Confused, angry but not ready to get engaged."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then he closes the ring box and slips it back into his pocket.
"I'm not giving up," he says.
"Alexander—"
"I waited five years. I can wait a few more months." His thumb brushes across my knuckles before he releases my hand. "You'll realize I'm right and when you do, I'll still be here."There's something almost sad in his voice.
"I should go," I say." I'm sure Marcus is inside working himself into a jealous frenzy."
Alexander's smile returns, sharper now. "Tell him I said hello."He walks past me toward the house, and I'm left standing by the fountain wondering why doing the right thing feels so much like making a mistake.
Marcus is waiting in the foyer when I come back inside.He's pacing and the second he sees me, his eyes drop to my left hand, then his shoulders relaxes.
"That was a long conversation," he says.
"Yeah, cause he fucking proposed."
Marcus goes very still. "And?"
"And I said no."
"Why?"The question catches me off guard.
"What do you mean why?"
"Alexander Rothschild is perfect on paper. Rich family, good connections, your parents approve. Why say no?"
"That's because I don't love him."
"You could learn to though."
I stare at Marcus. "Is that what you want? For me to marry Alexander?"
"No." The word comes out fierce. "I want you to marry me."
The air between us changes.
"Marcus—not you too"I grumbled
"I know the timing is terrible. I know you just left Daniel. I know you probably need space and time and all the things rational people need after a divorce." He steps closer.
"But I've been in love with you for twenty-one years, Isabelle. Twenty-one years of watching you date other people. Watching you marry someone who didn't deserve you. Watching from Singapore while you disappeared into a life that should never have been yours."
"You never said anything.""Because you never looked at me that way, I thought maybe if I waited, if I gave you space, if I became successful enough—" He stops. Runs a hand through his hair. "But I'm done waiting. I'm done being your friend who stands on the sidelines while other men compete for you."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm competing now. Officially." His eyes lock on mine. "And I'm going to win."
"This isn't a game."I protested
"Yes, it is. Alexander just made his move. I'm making mine."