Page 89 of The Grand Duel
My smile shrinks as I’m reminded of something. As the thought of Charles living his life in a home that’s not really that at all, for so many years, makes my heart sail through my chest.
“Hey.” Charles looks between me and the road. “You okay?”
My eyes come into focus, finding his face hard as he searches mine.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, sorry.” I swallow, my smile fake as I watch him drive. “You should change it—your home,” I add, not being able to stop the words. “Put some time and love into it, and make it something more.”
He huffs a laugh. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
I rest my head back on the seat. “Well, what do you picture? For your forever home. Tell me what it looks like.”
He contemplates it. “Not a penthouse on the thirty-third floor. But I’d never move, so this conversation is pointless.”
I let my head dip to the side as I watch him. “Humour me.”
He sighs. “A big garden, I guess. Big enough for the girls to explore. Good location. Close enough to the city to get to the office easily, but far enough out the neighbours aren’t on top of me.”
“What about the inside?”
“An open fire. The girls would love that,” he says, as if envisioning it. “And a big open plan living space—kitchen and living room all linked, sort of thing.”
“Oh, I have one of those,” I say, chuckling as I think about my tiny living space. “Would you go for all white everything?”
He turns his gaze on me and shakes his head. “I’d banish white from the entire house.”
I smile softly. “So, your dream home is nothing like your current one.”
I knew it.
He shrugs. “Tell me yours.”
“My dream home?”
He nods.
“Well, I’d probably have a lot of cream in it. You’d hate it there.” I watch as he fights to hide his smile. “There’s this house down the road from where I grew up. It’s called Heartlands. From the outside, it’s perfect. Beautiful, even.”
My chest aches at the thought of it.
“What about the inside?”
“I don’t really have a vision for the inside. I don’t think it matters if you’re happy.”
“So, if I was happy with my home, you wouldn’t tell me that I should change it?”
“It’s bland, but no. I wouldn’t do that to you, Charles.”
“What’s your dreamhappyhome then?”
I roll my lips and frown, sitting up in the seat as I briefly let go of my sister’s dream home and let myself think about something I’ve always envisioned. “I actually have a thing for this.”
He chuckles. “Let me guess, a white picket fence and two point five kids bouncing on the bed.”
“No,” I tell him with a smile. “It’s not so much things but more of a reality. I picture it, have done since I was a teen. It’s just me and my husband in our home. I’m stressing, worried about something people worry about in their middle age—I don’t know—and my husband, the man that he is, will come up behind me and wrap me in his arms. And he’ll say, ‘put the kettle on, Lis.’” I look over at Charles and smile. “And with those few words, I’d just know that everything was going to be okay.”
His mouth turns down as if surprised, his brows raised. “I didn’t peg you as being a ‘little things’ kind of girl.”