I love you, Mads.

I make my way to the kitchen with unseeing eyes. The housekeeper, Mrs. Coleman is there, wiping down a counter. “Can I help you, Ms. Morland?” she asks me with a pleasant smile.

“I just want some more coffee.”

I love you, Mads. How many times have I dreamed of hearing those words in the last nine years? How many times have I fantasized about Cameron finding me, coming to Calgary, saying those words to me, whispering that he can’t live without me?

So many times. And now he’s said those words to me, and it’s not even remotely like the fantasies. Because it’s all fake. Ryder and Zoe were in the room, obviously in love with each other, and Cameron wants to buy the cottage.

Get a grip on yourself, I order. You knew what was involved this week. You agreed to play along.

I hear footsteps. I’m half-expecting Cam to follow me, but it’s Zoe that enters the room. Of course. Cameron doesn’t follow me when I run away. I should have learned that lesson nine years ago, when I waited for him to call, email me, anything to show me he cared.

Zoe must see some of my distress in my face. “Maddie?” she asks softly. “Is everything okay?”

I lift my shoulders in a shrug, aware that Mrs. Coleman is within earshot. “I just needed caffeine.”

“Sure.” Her expression says she doesn’t believe a word. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

I glance at the window. The rain’s softened into a drizzle, and the sun is shining from a gap in the clouds. “You’re going to get wet.”

She snorts. “I’m not made of sugar, Maddie. Despite what Ryder thinks, I won’t melt.” She makes her way to the cloakroom and I follow her. She puts on a raincoat and I pick up an umbrella, and we make our way outside.

“This place is crazy, isn’t it?” she continues conversationally as we walk down the tree-lined path toward the dock. “I mean, who has a housekeeper for a cottage?”

“You find it strange? I thought you’d be used to it.”

“Because of Ryder?” She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t grow up with this kind of wealth. We’re dirt poor.”

“Really?” I can’t hide the surprise from my voice. “You seem to fit in really well.” In a way I’ve never been able to.

“They’re just people, Maddie,” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “If you scratch them, they will bleed. If you hurt them, they will ache.”

“They eat fried chicken with a knife and fork,” I blurt out.

“Huh?” Zoe shoots me a puzzled look.

“The last time I was here,” I explain, “we had a picnic on the lawn. They had fried chicken, coleslaw, potato salad, all kinds of picnic food. I thought I knew how to behave at a picnic, so I flopped down on a blanket with a chicken leg.” I frown at the humiliating memory. “And Cameron’s dad looked down at me, and he asked me, loud enough for everyone to hear, ‘what on earth are you doing?’”

Even now, I can’t forget the sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized that the entire party had turned to look at me.

Zoe squeezes my hand in sympathy. “That’s awful. What did you do?”

What happened next is my favorite part of this memory. “I was too shocked to respond, but Cam heard his dad. He came and sat next to me with a leg of chicken in his hand, and he proceeded to eat it with his fingers, as if that’s what everyone was expected to do.”

At that time, I’d been too mortified to register Cameron’s support. Now, I think back and realize that Cameron had, without the slightest bit of hesitation, picked a side that day. He came and sat by me on the blanket, rather than sit with his family at the picnic table.

That day. Two days later, he’d changed his mind. When I’d left the cottage, he’d stayed behind, and let our relationship wither on the vine.

“He loves you very much,” Zoe says softly.

He wants the cottage, I think sadly, trying to ignore the leap in my heart at Zoe’s words. Cam doesn’t love me--he’s just pretending so his grandfather will sell him the cottage.

He took really good care of you last night, and there was no one there to watch.

“Ryder’s told me about the two of you,” she continues. “You used to date in high school, right? And ever since you left, Cameron’s never dated anyone for longer than a month?” She sighs. “And now you’re engaged. So romantic. It’s like the movies.”

I look discomfited and Zoe laughs awkwardly. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I swear the pregnancy is making me more emotional. Hormones. I’m not usually this sentimental, really.”

I laugh at her earnest expression. I like Zoe. She’s friendly and down-to-earth. “I think your husband and my fiancé are looking for us,” I tell her, spotting the two men strolling along the path behind us.

“Of course they are.” Her lips turn up in a grin as Ryder and Cameron catch up with us. “Hi honey. Are you going to lecture me about catching a cold in the rain?”

“Someone has to be the sensible one.” Ryder laces his fingers in hers. “The third time I met Zoe, she was on the roof of her grandmother’s house, forty feet off the ground, replacing shingles. And she’s terrified of heights.”

Cameron’s blue eyes search my face. Are you okay? he seems to ask me.

My heart hammers in my chest. He followed me. I ran out of the living room, convinced he wouldn’t follow. I was wrong because here he is, looking at me with concerned eyes.

“Maddie isn’t much better,” Cameron says, not taking his eyes away from me. “You’re carrying an umbrella, but you didn’t think to open it? You need someone to take care of you, silly goose.”  

I get the strangest sense that we’re not talking about the rain anymore. Underneath, we’re talking about something else.

My heart warms at the fondness in his voice. “It wasn’t raining that hard,” I point out, unable to meet his gaze. What is he saying? Does he want to be with me, or are his words for Ryder and Zoe’s benefit?

He came after you. This time around, can things be different?

I’m not sure.  But I’m not the same person I was nine years ago. I recognize Joseph Drake’s attempts to intimidate me for what they are.

Cameron’s changed, too. He took me shopping and helped me find the right clothes to wear, something he wouldn’t have thought of before. He’s stuck by me, a solid, supportive presence at my side.

Maybe we’re both reaching out, imperfect and tentative from the hurt we’ve experienced in the past, yet unable to resist the pull we feel.

I put my arm around Cameron’s waist. If he stiffens, if he rejects me now…

He doesn’t. He takes the umbrella from my nerveless fingers with a crooked smile, opens it and holds it over my head. “Come on Maddie, let’s go in.”

Three days later, I have to admit I’m having a really good time. Yes, Cameron’s dad is still glowering at me, but he’s the only one. Cam’s grandfather has thawed and Aunt Emily is as warm as ever. Noah is still angry with his grandfather for some reason, but he’s friendly with Cam, Ryder, Zoe, and me.

Most importantly, things are pretty great with Cameron. During the days, we swim in the lake and drink beer on the dock. Our nights are spent rekindling the flame between us.

By unspoken mutual agreement, we don’t discuss the past, and we don’t look ahead to the future. We stay in the present and it’s good. Really good.

I should have known it wouldn’t last.

Wednesday morning, Misti calls me. “There’s a problem.”

She sounds distressed. My stomach sinks. “What’s the matter?”

“I just got a call from dad. He’s being released from prison at the end of the week. And Maddie?” Her voice breaks. “I’m so sorry. He wormed out of me that you were back with Cameron. I think he’s going to try to contact you.”

Of course he is. My father has always been very aware of exactly how much money Cameron is worth.

Nine years ago, the news that my dad was being released from prison prompted Cameron’s father to confront me about the unsuitability of our relationship.

I’d written Cameron a letter, tears streaming down my eyes. I’d left it in our bedroom and I’d packed my clothes and called for a cab to take me to the nearest bus stand, and I’d made my way back to Toronto.

All the way home, I’d hoped against hope that he’d call me and tell me we could make it work. But he’d never called.

Now, in a sick twist of fate, my dad is getting out of prison again. An urge to flee overwhelms me.