Something clicked inside his head. Nia had mentioned Dubai the other day. Her parents were staying out there.
He hated seeing the strain in her eyes. ‘Couldn’t your father help them? I know he’s not well, but couldn’t he maybe loan them some money?’
Something in her face shifted, and he knew that she was doing another of those mental calculations.
Finally, she shook her head. ‘He can’t help. He doesn’t have any money.’
There was a small silence.
‘I know that sounds stupid, and I know I told you they needed to go somewhere warm for his health, but I lied. He does have a weak chest, but that’s not the reason we’re renting out Lamington. We need the money.’
His head was spinning. Nia’s family needed money?
‘I don’t understand—’
‘I found out about eighteen months ago, when I met with the accountant.’ She shrugged. ‘I suspected something was wrong, but I didn’t realise how wrong until then.’
‘Did your parents know how bad things were?’
‘Not really. I’ve tried talking to them since, but…’ She smiled weakly. ‘Their interest in money is limited to spending it. They think it will just get sorted out—and it has, always. In the past.’
He could picture her, trying to explain to them, just as she had tried to explain to them about him—could sense, too, the strain she had been under and undoubtedly still was.
His hand found hers and she met his gaze.
‘There’s always been something to sell. But now there’s nothing left except the land. And Lamington.’
There was an ache in her voice, and an exhaustion that made his fingers tighten around hers. ‘You won’t lose Lamington.’
Once he had hated her home—now nothing seemed to matter more than reassuring her that it would stay her home forever.
‘Sometimes I wish I would,’ she whispered. ‘That I could just be normal like everyone else. Like I was with you…before.’
He stared at her in confusion. Not once had it occurred to him that Nia might feel that way. ‘Is that why you didn’t tell me?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘It’s not your problem, Farlan.’
I want it to be. The words rose in the back of his throat. I want to help.
But how could he help anyone—particularly Nia—when he couldn’t tell her even the bare bones of his life? And yet how could he not when she had shared something with him—a truth that hurt?
Feeling his body tense, he took a moment to compose himself. ‘You asked about my family’s farm…’
Her eyes widened fractionally and then she nodded slowly.
‘My grandfather fell over and broke his hip. My grandmother couldn’t cope so they sold the farm. They moved to Elrick, but they’re both dead now.’
No need to tell her that there had been no room for him at their new house—that once the farm had gone he hadn’t been needed. Or wanted.
But then he’d never been wanted—not by those who should have fought tooth and nail to keep him close and safe. To his family he had always been a burden and an inconvenience.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
Exhaling, he lifted her hand to his lips. ‘No, I’m sorry for being a jerk and messing up lunch.’ He held her gaze. ‘Let’s get
out of here. We could have a look around the town,’ he offered. ‘I’ve heard it’s very pretty. Romantic…’
She lifted her chin. ‘And you don’t have a problem with that? You know—fitting it in with our “arrangement”?’