Chapter 50: Fifty

Everything about Emma Ashwell was impossibly composed. From the silk blouse tucked perfectly into cream slacks, to the faint smell of roses from her expensive perfume, to the way her hair, an elegant chestnut brown streaked with tasteful silver, didn’t move even when she turned her head.

She wore a pearl bracelet and matching studs, and even now, with an apron neatly tied around her waist, she looked like she could walk onto the board of any foundation or gallery and be immediately elected president.

And here I was, sleeves rolled up, holding a bell pepper and pretending I wasn’t being dissected like a frog for a biology project.

She handed me a knife without looking directly at me. “You’re quite comfortable here.”

“I am trying to be,” I replied lightly, taking it. “The house is beautiful.”

“It’s been in our family for generations,” she said, with the kind of pride that wasn’t just about the house. “Ashwells don’t usually bring people here unless it’s serious.”

I glanced up at her. “I didn’t know that.”

She began arranging the salmon with mechanical grace. “Well, you probably wouldn’t.”

I busied myself chopping zucchini, pretending I didn’t feel the pointed edge of her words.

“So,” she said after a beat, “what are your plans after graduation? Assuming you complete your program, of course.”

“I plan to work in sustainable development. Ideally, in the nonprofit or policy space,” I replied. “I’m especially interested in energy transitions.”

Emma gave a small nod. “That’s admirable. Though… not particularly lucrative, is it?”

I smiled, keeping my tone light. “No, not really. But I didn’t go into this field for money.”

“No,” she mused. “I suppose some people can afford to be idealistic.”

I looked up at her, then back at the cutting board. “Well, I fund most of my education myself. So I’ve learned to be practical, too.”

She was quiet for a moment. “You mentioned earlier that your parents own a bakery?”

“Yes,” I said, gently dicing. “They met in high school, at a bake sale.”

“That must be difficult. A bakery, in a small town.” She smiled at me, “Well, I suppose it’s sweet and has a charm of its own. Not everyone values wealth.”

I met her gaze, steady now. “My parents do well for themselves, and they have brought me up without any limitations.”

Something flickered in her expression - surprise, maybe, or quiet calculation.

We worked in silence for a few minutes. Outside, I could hear the quiet rumble of Declan and his father talking. I wondered if their conversation felt as sharp and exhausting as ours.

Then Emma spoke again, her voice soft.

“Declan has a tendency to... attach himself to people he pities. He’s a gentle boy. He has a generous heart. It’s a family trait. But generosity is often mistaken for something else.”

I turned, carefully placing the chopped vegetables in the bowl. “I’m not mistaking anything. He’s been nothing but honest with me.”

She hummed faintly, as if considering whether to believe me. “Good. Because I know how quickly feelings can... complicate logic. Especially when someone like Declan is involved.”

I was silent. She continued, “I know my son is a catch. He is smart, and easy on the eyes. And well…I’m sure you are aware we are…comfortable. And he has an inheritance waiting for him. And the companies.” She paused, “Many girls are attracted to that kind of man.”

I smiled again, this time with a quiet firmness. “I care about Declan. Not his name. Not his family’s money. Just him.”

She didn’t answer right away. She turned the stove knob, lowered the heat, and looked over at me for the first time in full.

“Well,” she said, her eyes unreadable, “I suppose we’ll see.”

And with that, she turned back to the salmon, cool as ice, unshaken.

By the time the table was set, the linen runner smoothed out, polished cutlery lined up with slightly trembling precision, glasses filled with still water and, a splash of white wine, I had mostly managed to steady my nerves.

I folded the last napkin, then stepped back and took a breath. The food was warm, the table looked elegant, and I had survived Emma Ashwell’s version of a character evaluation disguised as meal prep.

Declan walked in first, followed by his father. He glanced at the spread and whistled low under his breath.

“Damn,” he said, eyes sweeping over the salmon, roasted vegetables, and salad. “This looks incredible.”

He looked at me, a soft smile tugging at his mouth. “You did all this?”

Before I could answer, his mother stepped in, heels clicking lightly on the hardwood.

“Well,” she said, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve as she approached the table, “we both had a hand in it.”

The smile on Declan’s face faltered for the briefest second. I caught it. So did she.

“Of course,” he said, reclaiming it with smooth ease. “Thanks, Mom. And thank you, Willow.”

His dad was already pouring himself a glass of wine and settling in at the head of the table.

I took the seat across from Declan, and Emma sat beside her husband, perched perfectly straight.

“So,” Richard said after a bite, “what do your parents think of you spending weekends away with a man like Declan?”

Declan choked slightly on his wine. I, however, kept my face neutral.

Before I could answer, Declan said calmly, “Father, I won’t tolerate any such comments toward Willow. I invited her here, we are seeing each other. There is nothing more to be said.”

I smiled at him gratefully.

The meal continued, though the food lost its flavor with each minute that passed. Declan made a few attempts at conversation, asking about a recent article he had sent to me a few days ago and tossing me a soft look when I mentioned something I’d read. But it was clear his parents weren’t interested.

They spoke around me like I wasn’t there, discussing board meetings, property investments, and the logistics of a fundraiser at the golf club. Every so often, Emma would mention someone’s daughter who had just graduated from law school or was a beautiful socialite Declan should meet.

“You remember Amelia, don’t you?” she asked, her voice feathery light. “She’s back from London. Her mother was asking about you, Declan. You should meet her. She’s a beautiful young woman.”

Declan’s jaw tensed as he cut into his salmon.

“I’m not looking to be set up,” he muttered.

Richard chuckled, swirling his wine. “Because you’re clearly doing such a great job choosing on your own.”

Declan looked up sharply. “Sorry?”

His father smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I just think you’re wasting your time playing house with women who are not your match. Amelia is a lovely girl, and her family matches our position in society.”

There was a long pause. The air seemed to tighten.

Emma sipped her wine slowly. “You’re an Ashwell, Declan. There’s a certain standard…”

“That I’m sick of hearing about,” Declan snapped. “You’ve been on my case since I was a kid, Dad. The things you say to me are something else. But I won’t tolerate disrespect for my girlfriend. I don’t give a fuck if you disapprove of her.”

“I never said that,” Emma replied, a touch too calm.

“You didn’t have to. You’ve made it clear from the second you walked into this kitchen.”

He stood suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. “Willow, let’s go.”

I blinked, heart thudding. “Declan…”

He rounded the table and took my hand, pulling me to my feet gently but firmly.

“You don’t deserve this,” he said to me, then turned to his parents. “I will be back in an hour. I will expect you both to have left by then.”

“Running away doesn’t change the fact that you’re making a mistake,” Richard said sharply.

“No,” Declan said, voice low but shaking with anger. “Staying would be the mistake.”

He guided me out of the room, his hand protective at the small of my back.

We didn’t speak until we reached the edge of the driveway. Declan stopped, looking out at the quiet lake, hands on his hips, chest rising with slow, deliberate breaths.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “That was supposed to be a nice weekend.”

I slid my hand into his. “Thank you.”