It’s easy to get used to luxury;
it’s far harder to return to a life of simplicity.
How was Julian supposed to accept that?
Dalton, understanding full well how hard it was for Julian to handle such a fall from grace, opened the passenger door and said quietly, “Come on, let’s get in the car.”
Julian moved mechanically, lifting his foot and getting in, his expression blank.
Dalton settled into the driver’s seat. They rode in silence, the weight of the moment pressing in on them.
Before long, the car pulled up outside Chandler Manor.
The entrance to the manor was sealed off with red tape from the authorities. Under the supervision of court officials, Vida Winslow and Veronica Winslow were carrying boxes from the house—just the bare essentials, since anything of real value was being confiscated. All they were allowed to take were a few personal belongings.
Dalton switched off the engine and, for a moment, just sat there. Then he asked, “Julian, do you regret it?”
Julian didn’t have time to answer before Dalton pressed on, “Do you regret divorcing Caitlin? If you hadn’t left her, the Chandler family wouldn’t be where it is now.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed. A sudden glimmer lit up in his gaze as he turned to Dalton. “Caitlin! Did she get in touch with you? Has she been asking about me?”
All this time, Julian had convinced himself that Caitlin had moved on, that she’d forgotten him. But if she was asking Dalton about him, maybe she still cared!
The thought sent a surge of excitement through him.
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