“From what I understand, he wasn’t feeling well during dinner, but they didn’t think anything of it. It got worse while he was reading in bed. Your mother found him in the bathroom.”

“What does that mean? Found him how?” She hated to think of her strong, sturdy father crumpled on the cold marble floor.

“All I know is that she called security, and they got him downstairs just in time to meet the paramedics. He’s in the private wing of the hospital. No one knows, and it obviously can’t get out.”

She tipped her chin down and went still. What had she done?

Why are you so selfish?

As her father had pointed out, she’d had seven—seven—years to find herself. That was more than enough. But, no, she had to push it, had to take more, more, more.

What if she’d gone home when he’d asked? Would he be okay right now?

“Stop blaming yourself.” Marcel’s voice snapped her out of her suffocating thoughts.

“I blame you. I would never have left home if you hadn’t cheated on me.”

Is that true, though? Even before you found out, you’d considered going to Calamity for the fitting.

But…had she been selfish? Or starting a business?

Did it matter?

“Don’t go there,” Marcel said. “We didn’t cause this. Your father has heart issues. And there’s tremendous stress in his life.”

“That you caused. I will never forgive you for this. If I could push you out of this car right now, I would.” Instead, she was stuck with him for the next ten hours. “I’m serious, Marcel. Don’t talk to me, or I’ll lose my shit all over you.”

He let out a huff, as if to say, See what you’ve become?

Damn right, this is who I’ve become.

And she fucking liked it.

With just four days until Rosie left, Brodie had asked his new architect to rush the blueprints for the lab. On his way to the bunkhouse, the drawings in a tube on the passenger seat, he wanted to floor it. Slap them down on the table and say, This is how serious I am.

But he didn’t want her to think he was pressuring her into staying here, so he needed to figure out the right words. Let her know he understood her duties and obligations, and he’d never ask her to give up her life in St. Christophe.

He just didn’t want her to leave without seeing the possibilities. To understand that he’d do whatever it took to keep them together. He had to get it right—pitch it in a way that assured her he wasn’t trying to lock her down. She didn’t want marriage and kids. She wanted to work, play, live, and he wanted to do all of it with her.