Lauren spent the day catching Barb up on all the years she’d missed while Lauren had been growing up without her. She still didn’t know how to feel about her mother’s confession, but she now understood why her father had kept this part of his life secret.
To keep her safe and protect her heart.
Love, plain and simple. She hated that she had ever doubted her father’s motives. As for her mother, she chose to forgive her. Although Barb’s actions had been insanely selfish, Lauren had still lived a great life with a parent who loved her more than anything.
It rankled, knowing she could be set aside so easily for a ridiculous pipe dream, but at the same time, she knew that not forgiving her mother now would lead to a lifetime of regret later.
If Lauren stayed away while she sorted out her feelings, it could be too late. Barb was dying. She’d worked hard to find Lauren and said she was sorry for everything that had happened. The least Lauren could do now is give herself some closure, take the chance to get to know her mother, and view this turn of events as a gift rather than a burden.
She drove home late that evening, having made plans for Barb to come up to the cabin later that week for a home-cooked meal. It felt strange to have solved her father’s mystery, but it also felt fated that she was here in Alaska, living in the state where her parents had met and fallen in love and following in her father’s footsteps, living the dream he had abandoned to give her a good life.
She couldn’t wait to tell Shane everything she had learned that day, but apparently she had to. When she reached the cabin, an unfamiliar car was parked outside—a much fancier one than she’d ever seen around Puffin Ridge.
Was this the thing that needed taken care of, per Shane’s note that morning?
Something felt off.
She pushed through the door, not knowing what she would find on the other side. Briar jumped up on her and then raced around the room in excitement.
“That dog needs to learn some manners,” a thin, dark-haired woman said from the recliner where Lauren normally sat. She wore knee-high boots with stiletto heels over her designer jeans, an outfit that looked ridiculous in this weather. She caught Lauren examining her and laughed. “Is this my replacement, Shane?”
Shane turned bright red beneath his beard. “This is Lauren, my handler. Lauren, this is my ex-wife, Satan.”
“Oh, you always were a funny one, weren’t you?” the woman said with a furrowed brow.
So this was Isabel? The woman was clearly all wrong for Shane. From her overly made up face to the tips of her designer footwear, all wrong.
“Can we help you with something?” Isabel asked in a syrupy sweet voice.
“I was just…” Lauren started.
“Grabbing a chair,” Shane finished for her. “Here, take mine. I’ll get one from the kitchen.”
“There’s no need for all of this, Shane,” Isabel said. “I told you I’ll leave as soon as you sign the papers.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a manila envelope, waving it at him.
“And I told you I’m not signing anything without having my lawyer look it over first.” Shane settled himself on the arm of Lauren’s recliner rather than getting a third seat from the kitchen.
Isabel frowned, but her forehead remained smooth and unwrinkled. “You made me drive all this way. For what? It’s like you wanted to waste my time.”
“That is a perk,” he said with a scowl.
Isabel placed an arm on each of the chair’s rests as if it were a throne. “You’re nothing, Shane. You’re less than nothing. The best thing I ever did was leave you. Best thing I ever did for my daughter, too.”
Lauren was not going to sit back and watch as Shane was treated like this, and in his own home, no less. “Excuse you, Rosie is Shane’s daughter, too, and she deserves to have her father in her life.”
“Your handler, you say?” Isabel raised an eyebrow at Shane, ignoring Lauren completely.
“He told you he doesn’t want to sign the papers right now, so I think it’s time for you to go.” Lauren rubbed Shane’s back, hoping it would comfort him somehow.
Isabel leaned forward, her hair falling in front of her face, making her resemble the freaky little girl from The Ring movie. “I don’t have to listen to him, and I certainly don’t have to listen to you. That’s the handy thing about a divorce. If he didn’t intend to sign these papers, he wouldn’t have invited me over. Nobody asked you for your thoughts, and nobody cares. I can guarantee that much. Now go out with the dogs where you belong, you little bi—”
“I don’t think so!” Lauren rose from her chair and stomped over to Isabel’s.
Shane grabbed her wrist, but she shook him off.
“Leave the papers, and get out.”
“Or what?” Isabel laughed at her.
“Remember, you had your chance,” Lauren growled. She could be a beast, too, especially when it came to protecting the people she cared about—people that most definitely included Shane. She grabbed the other woman’s arm and pulled her from the chair, marching back toward the front door.
“What are you—?”
“Taking out the trash.”
Isabel ripped her arm out of Lauren’s grasp and rubbed her thin wrist. “He can never love you, sweetie. He doesn’t know how.”
She stalked back to the chair to grab her purse and threw the envelope at Shane. “Nice seeing you, Shane. Maybe next time you can fight your own battles, eh? I’ll be back tomorrow for my signed papers. You can count on that.”