Thank you for your continued interest and support. I do not own Glee or the characters and I do not own Grayson's Vow.

One more chapter and a short epilogue left.

SAM

The world shifted into focus as I groaned, grabbing my head in my hands to stop the incessant pounding.

I was in the living room, sprawled across the couch, the bottle of empty Scotch lying on my stomach, along with the shot glass I'd been drinking from.

I didn't bother to move them before sitting up, so they rolled off me onto the floor, not breaking, just landing on the area rug in a soft thud.

Stumbling to my feet, I rubbed at the back of my neck, trying to massage the kink out.

Outside, the sun was still rising, the sky awash in shades of gold. I blinked and froze... It looked like there were dozens of workers in the grapevines, harvesting fruit.

I squinted, scratching absently at my stomach, trying to understand what I was seeing...

"I figure you'll need these," I heard behind me and turned to find Alice setting down two tablets I assumed were pain relievers and a glass of water on the table next to the couch. "Not that the way you're feeling isn't exactly as you deserve. I'd like to smack you upside the head myself, but I won't. Seems you've been doing enough of that by yourself."

"What in the hell is going on outside?" I demanded, ignoring her other remarks.

"Well, the grapes aren't going to harvest themselves you know."

I took a deep breath...

"What I mean is, who hired those people? You know very well I can't pay them."

"Harlan called in some favors, and he, Willie and Carlos pooled together the money you paid them up to the end of the month. They're planning to split it amongst the men who agreed to work for you this week."

"Harvesting grapes takes longer than that, Alice as you well know."

"Yes, well, this is a start, and if you can get the wine in the barrels into bottles, then you can start selling it. There'll be a second crew coming in the evening to help with that."

I turned sharply towards Alice, grimacing at the sudden, sharp ache in my skull...

"Why? Why would they do that?"

"I suppose, because they believe in you."

"Believe in me?" I let out a sharp bark of laughter that only served to hurt my head. "What good is that going to do them when it comes time to feed their families? Speaking of which, why are you still here?"

She only pursed her lips.

"Perhaps you'd like to get showered and go down and join them."

I snorted...

"No. A second bottle of Scotch and I have plans for the day."

I told myself I didn't care about the disapproving look Alice shot me before she left the room. Because she had lied to me as well. And the only reason I didn't kick her out of my house was because this had been her home longer than it had been mine.

But she'd be forced to leave soon enough...once I could no longer afford baking ingredients. Or once I got arrested for assaulting Christopher Devlin.

I groaned, running my hands through my hair, the mess of my life coming back into sharp focus.

"Alice," I called. She halted at the wide archway that separated the living room from the foyer, looking back at me. "Have the police been by? Or called?"

"No," she said, then turned and walked towards the kitchen.

I wondered why she wasn't curious about why I'd asked that question. Perhaps she just couldn't take on one more issue right now.

Well, neither could I, and yet, apparently, fate had other plans for me...

I downed the two pills Alice had left me then went upstairs and showered, letting the hot spray soothe my sore muscles.

After I had dressed, I went into the guest bedroom across the hall to look out at the grapevines beyond...

The equipment and the men were still there...

Fools! All of them! It was all a waste of time.

A few minutes later, I went and flopped down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling fan... The one I'd stared at in wonder so many nights after Mercedes and I had made love.

'Stop! Don't think of her...not right now,' I thought, but it was no use. My mind wondered...

Was she waking up with Chris this morning?

Were they having breakfast in bed?

Tortured by my own thoughts, I went to get the second bottle of Scotch.

I intended to drink so much I'd pickle my brain and kill all the brain cells that held memories of her.

Alice was in the living room, folding the blanket I'd half slept under the night before... Glancing out the window, I muttered,

"They're all wasting their time. I despise this place. Even if I had a way to make it successful, I wouldn't bother now. I'd rather tear it apart like my father did. There's only misery to be found here... Misery, lies and bad memories."

"If that's what you believe, then I guess it's true."

I narrowed my eyes...

"I do believe it. I know it."

"Okay."

I pressed my lips together, angry that Alice could still aggravate me with only a few words.

And apparently, she wasn't done...

"Harrold is out there, too, you know," she said as I bent to the liquor cabinet. "I just hope his back doesn't give out. And of course, he has trouble seeing well now, too. I hope he's plucking the right grapes..."

I halted, rolling my eyes...

"Harrold's the picture of health," I said.

She shrugged...

"I didn't mean to disturb you. You go right back to drinking yourself into oblivion. But maybe give the men a little wave now and again if you think about it. I'm sure it will boost their spirits as they do hard manual labor for less than minimum wage in the hot sun all day."

"Jesus," I mumbled. "It's not even that hot."

I was fully aware she was attempting to guilt-trip me. And the truth was, maybe a day of hard labor would be a better way to clear my mind than alcohol.

And at least it wouldn't leave me feeling as if there was a ten-ton boulder sitting on my head.

"If it means not listening to you a second longer, I'll go out there and work my fingers to the bone," I grumbled.

She shrugged, but I saw her lips curve up into a smile before she turned away.

Damn her!

When I came in that evening, dirty and sweat-soaked, every muscle in my body ached. Apparently, Harlan had contacted every ex-con he knew in the northern hemisphere and they were all working at my vineyard.

I didn't know if it would amount to anything, but the sick feeling I'd had in my stomach when I thought of the fruit I'd cared for so carefully, rotting and dropping to the ground, had abated.

At the very least, it would be in barrels and I'd be able to start bottling the wine. And when I sell this vineyard, I'll get a higher price because it's a working winery and not one that was back on its way to ruin.

Afterwards, I'll divorce Mercedes, and with the money I make off the sale of the vineyard, I'll go somewhere and do...something.

But what?

What did I know apart from winemaking?

Precious little. The business degree I'd earned long ago in college was a waste now. Plus, no one wanted to hire a felon.

Misery threatened...

The thoughts that had taken a backseat in my mind as I'd worked all day were back again to torture me. And with that, I decided to head to the bathroom to wash my cares away.

I took a quick but effective shower and started to head downstairs, pausing in front of the room Mercedes had stayed in before she'd moved into what I still thought of as our room.

Pain squeezed my heart as I looked around the empty space...

I opened the closet, but she hadn't left anything behind.

Pulling the top drawer of the dresser open, I discovered two forgotten nightshirts. Shamefully, I brought them to my nose and inhaled, breathing in the lingering scent of her, sweet and delicate.

I held back the tormented groan that rose in my throat and placed them back where they'd been. That's when I spotted what looked like a small ring box...

I picked it up and opened it slowly, inhaling a deep gulp of air when I saw a platinum men's wedding band.

Then I pulled it from the dark blue velvet and held it up to the light...

The inscription read...

My Dragon. My Love.

I sucked in a deep breath...

The words inscribed inside the ring felt like a blow to my already aching heart. And I stood there for what felt like a long time, confusion swirling through me.

Finally, I put the ring back in the box and placed it in the drawer, heading downstairs to greet Harlan, Willie and Carlos, who Alice had asked to stay for dinner.

They were just arriving, all looking dirty, tired, but somehow happy.

Guilt piled on top of my heartache... Despite all their work, in the end, I wouldn't be able to offer them much. They'd have to find a job somewhere else.

Fist-bumping Harlan, I thanked him again.

"Man, you didn't think I'd stop looking out for you just because we're on the outside now, did you?" He smiled, massaging his tanned, beefy arms. I was sure he was as sore as me, maybe more. because he'd been working since sunrise.

"I don't deserve it, Harlan," I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Maybe, maybe not. That's not for me to judge. I only know who my friends are, and I help my friends. I owe you my life... I owe Mercedes my life, too. Anything either of you ask, I'm all in."

I cleared my throat, emotion suddenly surprising me. I was just so damned tired.

"My woman feels the same, too. You got me?" Harlan said.

"Uh..."

He chuckled.

"Kitty's one hell of a woman," he finished, sporting a huge grin.

Willie lumbered in, interrupting us...

"Hey Willie," I said. And I saw Fifty behind him.

"Hi, Mr. Evans, sir." He smiled happily. "I've been picking grapes and making wine."

I smiled back.

"Thank you, Willie." I reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "You're a good man. Hey Carlos, I greeted when he, too, came through the door. "Let's eat."

As we headed towards the kitchen, Harrold was coming down the stairs. He didn't look well, and the fact that he'd worked all day for me caused a wave of guilt to consume me.

Christ, he was twice my age...

I frowned as he grabbed for the railing, bringing one hand to his chest...

"Harrold?" I asked.

He made a choking sound and pitched forward. And I lunged for him, breaking his fall with my body. I heard Alice cry out behind me, even as I struggled to sit upright with Harrold's weight on top of me.

"Turn him over," I heard Harlan instruct and Harrold's weight was quickly lifted off me.

Everything seemed to slow, voices seemingly coming from underwater, the sound of my heart thumping loudly in my ears.

I heard Carlos on the phone with a 911 despatcher as I watched over Harrold. He was gasping for air, his hand still over his heart as Alice and I kneeled over him.

"Help's coming," I croaked, my chest filled with fear.

Alice was crying silently as she rubbed his hair. He seemed to be trying to say something, first to her and then to me, but no words were emerging, only gasps and grunts for air.

Finally, he reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly in his as he choked out...

"Like...my...own son."

At those words, my heart squeezed so tightly in my chest that I gasped for air myself...

"Don't talk," Alice said. "And don't you dare leave me. Don't you dare, you stubborn old goat!"

At that, Harrold let out one final gasp and collapsed, only to lie still and silent.

Panic prickled my skin... And my breath came out in sharp exhales.

I could hear one word being repeated again and again...

"No, no, no."

And I finally realized it was my own terrified voice pleading the word like a desperate prayer.

The hospital room was dim and silent, the early glow of dawn filtering through the blinds, and the steady beat of Harrold's heart being sung by the heart monitor next to where he lay.

I sat hunched over in a chair next to his bed, my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands.

Alice had gone home several hours ago to rest and feed Fifty. She had wanted to spend the night, but there wasn't an extra bed anywhere in the hospital and it wasn't likely Harrold would wake during the night, even though he was now stable.

So I'd volunteered to stay, telling her my back was younger, and I'd call her if he woke before she arrived in the morning.

Bringing one hand to the back of my neck, I massaged the tight muscles...

"I hope you don't mind me saying..." I snapped my head up at the sound of Harrold's voice. "...that you look like hell, sir."

I released a breath...

"When has what I minded ever made a bit of difference with you, Harrold?" I asked, attempting to conceal the grin that wanted to break free.

"Never," he admitted.

I stood up and poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on the table next to his bed and helped him hold the cup as he took several long drinks.

Laying his head back on the pillow, he regarded me...

I sat back down on the chair and pulled it a bit closer to his bed. Pulling out my phone, I said,

"It's just like you to pull dramatics like you did last night. I'll let Alice know..."

"Wait just a few minutes," he said, his voice serious as he held his hand up. I paused and then put my phone away. "I didn't go to all that dramatic trouble to have you walk out of here without hearing me out."

I gave him a small, wry smile, but nodded my head.

"Okay. Fine then."

For a moment, Harrold didn't say anything. But when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady.

"When I was lying at the bottom of the stairs, you know what I kept thinking?" I shook my head. "I kept thinking, please don't let me leave this world without telling that boy how I feel about him."

"Harrold," I said, running my hand through my hair, emotion rising in my chest. I'd never discussed feelings with him.

"We had a son," he said, clearing his throat as his voice broke subtly on the word son.

I tilted my head...

"What? You never said..."

"No, it's difficult for us to speak of William. We lost him when he was just a baby. Alice, she...grieved terribly, as did I."

"I'm sorry, Harrold," I said hoarsely. He nodded.

I've seen that sadness in his eyes before today...

And I've seen that face every time my father had dished out his punishments...most of them cold and all of them hurtful.

All this time, Harrold had cared so deeply about how I'd been treated, and I'd never known of his and Alice's loss.

"We couldn't have more children after that. Being there, in the home where we'd had him, became unbearable. And so," he took a deep breath. "We decided to come here, to America, to begin a new life. We started working for your family and we found a bit of happiness again. And then, one day, a knock came at the door and there you were. Despite the way Dwight and Jennine Evans reacted, to Alice and me...to us...you were our gift, and you have been every day since. Not a day has gone by when we haven't been proud of you. I want you to know that."

"Harrold..."

My voice broke...

"We couldn't always be there, and we couldn't always intervene, because we feared your father would send us away and we'd be no good to you at all, but we did all we could to let you know that you weren't alone... Not then and not now. Not ever. We only withheld the true motive of your father's bequest because we love you and tried to bear that terrible burden for you as long as we could. We didn't do it out of dishonesty. We did it out of love. I hope you can one day understand that."

I sat back in the chair, allowing Harrold's words to flow through my heart. Of course I'd always known he and Alice were more my parents than my actual father and stepmother had ever been.

But...what if they were wrong and he wasn't?

"What if he was right about me, Harrold?" I choked, voicing my deepest, darkest fear.

"Your father?"

"Yes," I whispered harshly. "All of them."

"Is that what you think? That Alice and I were wrong about you, but Dwight Evans was right? Your mother? And Jennine?"

"I..."

I was at a loss for words...

I suddenly pictured Harrold in his old-fashioned black swimsuit teaching me to swim...

I saw him leading me through the maze as we counted steps and learned turns...

I saw Alice wringing her hands when she knew I was hurting. And I thought about all the wise advice she'd imparted to me through the years, and all the love she'd readily given.

"Perhaps," Harrold said. "You're also asking because you wonder which category your wife belongs in."

Harrold had always known everything, before I ever told him. I don't know why I thought this situation would be any different.

"I...yes. I just, I don't know if I can trust her."

He regarded me for several moments...

"Well," he sighed. "I suppose you never actually have to find out if you never truly take the risk. I suppose you could haunt the halls of Evans Vineyard like a ghost, clanking around in chains of your own making and scaring little children at the windows."

I let out a small laugh that ended on a sigh...

"Do you know why I call you sir? Why I've always called you sir?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"As a reminder that you're worthy of respect, and you always have been."

"Thank you, Harrold," I said, choked with gratitude for his presence in my life.

"What does your heart tell you?" he asked.

I looked down, thinking about the ring I'd found in the drawer... And the inscription... My Dragon. My Love.

I didn't know what to believe anymore.

I love you, Mercedes had said, and yet, I'd thrown her out.

Despair and doubt swirled in my gut... I had called my wife a conniving schemer, made accusations that didn't even seem rational anymore and hadn't given her any chance to explain more fully than she had.

And yet, if I was willing to believe her, that seeing me in the bank that day was really just a stroke of fate, could I really blame her for not coming into my office that first day and telling me her father had been responsible for my overly harsh sentence?

Hadn't I started out mistrusting her, too?

Hadn't we both decided our relationship would only be temporary?

And if I truly listened to my heart as Harrold was suggesting, didn't it tell me it would be just like Mercedes to see sharing money with me as a way to make up for the injustice her father had done in my case?

As if that had been her fault at all.

From the moment I'd met her, she'd fought me tooth and nail. Not to bring me down, though...to elevate me.

To restore in me a semblance of hope and joy.

The party, her costume...all telling me she believed in me, that she wanted me restored in the eyes of others and in the eyes of myself.

She had seen my worth and she had told me in a hundred different ways.

Oh Jesus... What I knew to be the truth flowed through my veins like hot molten guilt, eating away at my insides.

I'd been a mess that day, willing to believe everyone I trusted had or would eventually betray me. And seeing Mercedes with Chris and then hearing her confession had been the confirmation of that fear.

In some sick sense, I had wanted to believe the worst of her.

She was like a brightly shining light and I had been living in cold darkness for so very, very long. It felt as if my soul had been peeking out, desperate to feel the warmth of her love, and yet, so afraid of the agony of withdrawing back into the darkness again when she inevitably left and took the sunshine with her.

So instead, at the first doubt, I had turned away from her before she could turn away from me.

I'd been unwilling to believe she loved me, even when she'd said it and even though she'd demonstrated her love for me again and again.

Yes, I had been ridiculously irrational, cold and cruel, sinking so low as to use her deepest insecurities against her.

She was a beautiful, tender, big hearted girl and I'd watched as her spirit had broken right in front of me... That bright light I loved so much had grown dim right before my very eyes.

Torment spiked through me... I'd thrown my wife out without a cent to her name. God, for all I knew, she was sleeping in her damn car.

No wonder she'd gone to Chris...

What other choice would she have had?

Shame and self-hatred gripped me with an intensity that almost left me breathless.

When the time had actually come for me to make a choice...to trust her or to push her away...I had pushed her away.

Surrender, my boy.

Alice's words...

Only, in the end, I hadn't been able to. Not fully. I had failed Mercedes... I had failed myself.

And then a realization came to me that actually stole my breath... She could very well be carrying my child. We'd made love twice with no protection whatsoever...

"I pushed her away," I said miserably. "I said cruel, heartless things to her. Even if I... She'll never forgive me. I don't even know if I can forgive myself. There's absolutely no hope."

Harrold, the man who had acted as my hero again and again, regarded me silently for several moments before he closed his tired-looking eyes.

I went to stand, to leave the room so he could sleep, when his voice came from behind me...

"I think you'll find that where there is real love, there is always real hope."

I got home later that afternoon, the men Harlan had rounded up still hard at work in the vineyards. So I went down and greeted them all, intending to update Harlan on Harrold's prognosis.

It looked good. He'd need a stent put in, but his doctor assured us the surgery was straightforward, and that he would most likely be home in just a few days.

But when I asked about Harlan, one of the guys told me he'd shown up for a short while and then left saying he'd be around later in the day.

I went back to the house to shower and join them at the winemaking facility where Carlos was overseeing the equipment usage...

I was bone weary, but there was no way I was going to leave the men out there to work without me. I could sleep later. And maybe, while I was working, something would come to me regarding a way to win my wife back.

Because Lord knew, I had no idea what to do right now other than falling to my knees and begging for her forgiveness.

After showering, I went down to the kitchen and started brewing a pot of coffee. Whilst waiting for it to finish, I flicked on the television and froze when I saw Christopher Devlin's face on the screen.

Grabbing the remote off the counter, I fumbled with it as I attempted to turn up the volume.

The newscaster was mid-sentence once I'd finally succeeded...

". . . seems this shocking video was shot by a call girl who taped Judge Christopher Devlin in a hotel room at The Palace Hotel during a black tie charity dinner held two nights ago. The hidden camera caught an allegedly intoxicated Judge Devlin bragging about accepting bribes, manipulating case outcomes and other highly corrupt activities. An investigation has just begun and details are still emerging in this case, but Judge Devlin also boasted of his alliance with former San Francisco Mayor, Darius Jones, several times in the video...claims that Mr. Jones is vehemently denying at this time. Some might recall Christopher Devlin's former engagement to Mayor Jones' daughter, Mercedes Jones...an engagement that ended in a scandal of its own."

Shock ratcheted through my system and I braced my hands on the counter in front of me to hold myself up.

The newscaster continued...

"This story highlights the public's deep concern about corruption in politics. As voters and citizens, we'd all like to believe those in positions of power don't trade influence, but this case seems to be bringing those suspicions to the forefront of today's political discussion. Let's show that video one more time."

Said video started from the viewpoint of someone sitting on top of Christopher Devlin as he lay on a bed, outfitted in a tuxedo. He was laughing as he discussed precisely what the newscaster had said.

My whole body tensed, fierce anger and stark disbelief clenching my gut as I listened to him discuss the way in which he'd casually ruined lives...first as a prosecutor and now as a judge.

No wonder Darius Jones had been so willing to protect him when Mercedes had caught him with hookers. He'd been doing dirty work for him for years. And she hadn't had any clue.

I swallowed, focusing back in on the video...

The girl wearing the camera giggled and spurred Chris on, stroking his ego by telling him how much his power turned her on. But when she leaned forward slightly to undo his bow tie, I caught a glimpse of the ends of her hair swinging forward... It was pink...

I shook my head back and forth... It couldn't be...

Then I squinted my eyes as the person wearing the video camera excused herself to use the restroom and then the grainy picture cut to her walking briskly through what looked like a black tie gala.

There was laughter, chatter and dishes clattering in the background. And as I moved even closer to the television, I saw a guest in the background... a man wearing a tux... and it was only in profile, but it looked suspiciously like Harlan.

And... Holy fuck! I recognized someone else at that gala... She was just in profile as well, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was my stepmother Jennine What the hell was going on?

"Alice!" I yelled, remembering suddenly she was at the hospital. "Holy fuck!"

I called Carlos, but he didn't answer his phone and so, I rushed down to the vineyard where I quickly informed him I'd be back as soon as possible.

"Got it under control, boss," he called in return. But I was already halfway out the door.

I ran to the house and threw a few things in a bag and got into my truck, driving out through the gate...

Jesus Christ! How had this happened?

My mind was racing a million miles a minute.

Mercedes...

Mercedes was behind this. I wanted to shake her and then crush her to me and never let her go. The little witch had cooked this up. I knew she had.

My sweet little beautiful witch. She could've placed herself in danger. Was that why she'd been with Chris here in Napa?

Dear God, I had treated her so cruelly that day. And she'd done this to help me...to help us...just as Harlan and Kitty had...

I knew it in my gut. Deep down in my gut.

But I still needed answers...

Because questions pounded in my brain, one after the other. And I knew where I needed to go to get them...

As I drove, visions of Mercedes ran through my mind... Her turning to me in our bed, the morning light hitting her face as her sleepy, brown eyes opened, her lips turning up in a soft smile as she reached for me.

I even saw her holding Fifty in her arms...

"She needs love more than anything," she'd told Olivia. "The only thing that will hurt her is holding it back."

I squeezed my eyes shut momentarily, and an intense ache filled my chest...

I saw her jumping down from that tree, standing on the tractor in a ballerina pose and sliding down the bannister with a look of unabashed joy on her face.

And yes, she'd most definitely won that day.

I also saw her walking towards me in the maze reaching out her hand.

That night, under the moonlight, she had saved me. And when it came time, I hadn't been strong enough to save her back.

I let out a deep exhale, the visions flowing through my mind and through my heart.

I pictured her kneeling in front of me on the floor of the wine cellar, a look of tenderness and love on her face...

"If you let it, pain makes more space for love within you. And the love we carry inside makes us strong when nothing else can."

Jesus... That's exactly what she'd done. She'd taken all those empty spaces inside her and filled them with love. And when the worst had happened, I had been too stupid, afraid and filled with self-doubt to allow her to teach me how to do that, too.

I had fallen desperately in love with an enchanting little witch...a radiant girl with brown gemstone eyes and a wild mane of hair as untamed as her.

Mercedes, my fiery little wife with a spirit as bright as the sun and a heart as tender as a newborn lamb... She owned my heart and my soul. And I would be hers until I drew my final breath.

I was ready now... I was ready to surrender my all, every last bit, come what may. I just hoped I wasn't too late.

"Please don't let me be too late."

The woman who answered the door was wearing a housekeeping uniform. She led me into the formal living room and told me she'd see if Jennine was available.

I nodded grimly, choosing not to sit on the pristine white sofa.

A few minutes later, my stepmother came gliding into the room, as perfectly coiffed as I remembered her, every piece of dark blonde hair in place.

"Sam," she greeted, standing awkwardly by the door. And after a short pause, she moved towards the bar on the far wall. "Would you like a cocktail? It's five o'clock somewhere, right? My, but corruption in politics is quite the talk of the town, isn't it?"

There was the confirmation... She'd been a part of whatever had happened with Christopher Devlin.

"You were there," I said, cutting right to the chase.

She poured herself a glass of wine, turned and held it up to me in question. I shook my head... She swallowed one large sip before answering...

"Yes, I was there. Who did you think paid the twenty-five-hundred-dollar-a-plate cost?"

I eyed her warily...

"You paid for whom? Harlan and Kitty?"

She took another sip of wine...

"And myself. I decided it was a good cause. So you really didn't know about it?"

"No."

She nodded her head.

"Your wife came to me last week. Apparently, this Chris fellow was involved in something causing you strife. She said she knew his weakness and she planned to have pictures taken to blackmail him, and therefore her father."

I let out a loud whoosh of air...

Mercedes... I was going to kiss her senseless and then I was going to strangle her. She'd been planning on blackmailing him by taking lewd photos. Of all the crazy, hair-brained schemes!

"From what I can see, they got more than they bargained for. Even Washington is all aflutter over this. Crooked government and corrupt politicians is the talk of every town in America today."

I let that sink in...

"So the plan was only to take pictures?"

She shrugged.

"Unless they didn't mention it to me. She just asked if I'd fund it."

"And why did you?" I asked, thinking of all the times she'd said cruel things to me, and all the times she'd watched as my father punished me simply for existing.

She turned away and looked out her window, sipping on the wine...

"I've had time to consider things since Dwight's been gone." Then she turned towards me, placing the wine glass on a side table. "I...could've done better when it came to you. I was bitter and hurt and..." She waved her hand around. "Well, I'm sure you're interested in hearing about it, and frankly, I'm not that interested in talking about it either. But when I was asked to help, I figured I owed you that much at least. Your wife, she obviously loves you very much, Sam."

Then she looked at me almost as if she was seeing me for the very first time.

I was stunned... And as I gawked at her silently, she moved towards a small writing desk in the corner and took something out of the top drawer...

"I was going to send this to you, but since you're here..."

She held it out to me and I took it from her, looking down to see she'd given me a check written out for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

"What is this?" I demanded, holding it back out to her.

"It's part of your father's estate. Hopefully that covers at least some of the damage he did to the vineyard before he died."

She knew. She knew what he'd done.

"What if I don't want his money?"

"Then you'd be a misguided fool just like he was. Take it and make a life for yourself, Sam, wherever that may be. Take it and be happy."

"I..."

"Are the roses and other flowers still blooming?" she asked.

"I...what? Yes."

She nodded, something moving across her expression that looked like sadness, or perhaps regret. Then she moved towards the door...

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," she said. "I assume you can show yourself out?"

"Yes," I said, confusion and surprise and hope and a hundred other emotions I couldn't identify in that moment moving through my chest.

I folded the check and put it in my wallet, then let myself out of my stepmother's home.

I was reeling. Only Mercedes could soften a heart like Jennine's.

Only Mercedes... God, only her.

I had a wife to find and some groveling to do. And I was going to grovel so hard they might need to find a new word for it.

Well I hope this chapter made a whole lot of sense. I did double shifts yesterday and today and I am tired. My eyes are literally drooping.

Much love to you all and stay safe!