That was the problem. She had been interested in his life, in his recovery from his pain when he was out here hiding from the world, and he wasn't going to be any less interested in hers. That cabin, he had explained, was where he had lived while he was slowly building the house that he had never really intended to finish or live in.
Griffin had first purchased this lot of property when he was married to his previous wife. They'd had plans to leave California and move to Oregon, live in a house at the top of the mountain. When she died, Griffin had taken it upon himself to build the house as a memorial. Or rather, a pun-ishment. Taking himself off-grid so that no one could get in touch with him, embroiling himself in a project he would never be able to finish. And then, Iris Daniels had come along, and somehow had pulled him out from the grave he was living in. He had finished the house for her. Had brought a whole team of men out to finish it, because the house was no longer a punishment, but a symbol of hope.
And it was a beautiful house. Modern and glinting in the sunlight, large floor-to-ceiling windows that were made to bring the view outside in. Nothing like the little place she was staying in. But then, she hadn't spent any of her adult life living in any kind of luxury.
Her parents had a very nice house.
And if she ignored the shame she could feel seeping out of the wallpaper, she could focus on the fact that she had grown up in a very privileged, plush surrounding.
But then she had gone out and gotten a job, and had spent the entirety of her adult life supporting a man-child.
She gritted her teeth. Thinking of all the start-up businesses she had invested in. All of the promises he'd made, and she would just have been so desperate to believe them.
She parked her car and shoved that to the side, and as she got out and stood there in her brother's driveway, she realized that she probably should've called. There were two cars in the driveway, which meant that Iris and Griffin were probably home and hopefully expecting her since she'd talked to Iris earlier.
She didn't want to watch them in any sort of compromising position.
She heard voices coming round from the back of the house, and stopped. And then she heard laughter. Griffin's laughter. That was when he and his wife rounded the cor-ner, holding on to each other, their hair wet. So they had definitely been out doing.. Something. They both stopped when they saw her standing there.
"Mallory?" her brother asked, frowning, looking at her as though she might be an apparition.
"Yes," she said. "That would be... Me." She looked at Iris, who was looking apologetically at her husband.
"I wanted her to tell you she was here, especially since I didn't have details," Iris said.
Griffin looked at his wife, then back at Mallory. "What are you... Doing here? Are you with..." Mallory sighed. "Let's go inside."