Becoming Mrs.Terry

Chapter Eight: The One Who Knew Him Before

The rain was light that afternoon, misting the windows of the Terry mansion in fine droplets. Tinah was curled up on one of the velvet sofas in the reading room, finally beginning to feel like she belonged in a place this grand.

She had just picked up a novel when Mrs. Danvers stepped in, looking slightly flustered.

“There’s… someone at the door asking for Mr. Terry,” she said. “But she wasn’t on the schedule. And she’s rather insistent.”

Tinah sat upright. “Who is it?”

“She says her name is Emily. Miss Emily Linda.”

The name meant nothing to Tinah.

But it clearly meant something to Rowland.

Tinah followed Mrs. Danvers through the hallway and reached the main doors just as Rowland appeared from the other side, his eyes sharp and unreadable.

At the entrance stood a woman with long auburn hair, a tailored coat, and the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing someone too well.

“Well, well,” she said with a smile. “You didn’t block my number—progress.”

“Emily,” Rowland said, tone clipped. “Why are you here?”

“To see you, obviously.” Her gaze slid past him—right to Tinah. “And I had to meet your wife. The internet didn’t do her justice.”

Tinah straightened her shoulders, unsure whether to smile or glare.

“Hi,” Emily said, extending a hand. “Old friend. Long-time complication.”

Rowland stepped in before Tinah could respond. “She was just leaving.”

Emily’s smile didn’t fade. “Was I?”

“You always do eventually,” he replied coldly. “Usually after a mess.”

“Careful, Rowland. You’re sounding bitter.”

“I’m being honest. It’s new for me.”

Emily turned her gaze back to Tinah. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Seeing a man like him married? I used to think he’d die alone with nothing but stock reports and scotch to keep him company.”

Tinah’s voice was calm. “And now?”

Emily tilted her head. “Now I think maybe you’re the only thing keeping him from disappearing completely.”

That silenced the room.

Rowland’s jaw flexed. “You don’t get to waltz in and analyze my life, Emily.”

“I’m not analyzing. I’m remembering,” she said, her voice soft now. “The Rowland I knew… he used to laugh without guilt. He used to dream of building something different from his father’s empire. But grief… it changes people.”

Tinah’s heart tightened at the mention of grief.

“You were close,” she said, watching Emily.

Emily nodded. “We were… everything. Friends, partners. Almost more. But he closed the door on that chapter the day Lena died. I wasn’t enough to pull him out.”

“You walked away,” Rowland said, voice low. “You didn’t try.”

“I tried until it nearly broke me,” Emily snapped. “You shut me out. And I didn’t have a contract keeping me here.”

Tinah flinched at that last line.

A sharp silence followed.

Emily let out a breath, more tired than angry now. “I just wanted to see for myself if you were okay.”

“I’m not,” Rowland said. “But I’m trying.”

Emily glanced between them. “Then maybe she’s exactly what you need.”

Without another word, she turned and walked out into the drizzle, her heels echoing softly against the stone.

⸻

Later that night, Tinah found Rowland in his office again, staring at the same photo of his mother.

“You don’t have to explain,” she said gently.

But he did.

“Emily was there when everything fell apart,” he said. “She saw the worst of me, and I hated that. I hated that she knew how broken I’d become. So I pushed her out.”

Tinah sat beside him, quiet.

“She was right,” he added. “I didn’t try. Not with her.”

Tinah placed her hand over his.

“You’re trying now.”

Rowland turned to her. “Doesn’t that scare you?”

“A little,” she whispered. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

In the stillness of that moment, surrounded by the ghosts of what was, something unspoken passed between them.

He was letting her in.

And she was ready.