Killian squeezes my arm, but he doesn't say anything, and I don't want to look in his eyes because I'm afraid of what I'll see there – pity, disgust, blame? I don't want to see it. But I can't seem to stop talking, either. "All of the stuff that happened afterward, it was like seeing an accident on the side of the road or something – I just couldn't look away, even though it was horrible. I kept asking questions, reading everything I could get my hands on about the investigation, even when people told me to stop asking questions. I just wanted to understand how the hell someone I thought I knew could be involved in something so horrid." I know I'm rambling, disjointed, but I have a hard time telling this story in an articulate way, even seven years after the fact.
"One of the other wives – the wife of a good cop – asked me how I could possibly not have known that Adam was a disgusting, vile man. I asked myself the same thing, over and over, until I couldn't think straight for years after that. I replayed every interaction I could remember with him in my head, looking for some sign that I overlooked. Because the thing is, I should have known. A wife should know whether her husband is capable of such evil."
How do I put into words the earth-shattering nature of that discovery? It shattered everything I believed about my husband – but even more, about myself.
"I couldn't trust myself to be with anyone after that." I swallow hard, my voice shaking, blinking back tears. "And the thing about it is that I was relieved that I found out before Chloe was born. How fucked up is that? He was responsible for destroying all of these girls, and I was just relieved that it was over before Chloe knew him."
"Lily –" Killian starts.
"That's it. That's the thing I've been hiding, why I changed my name back to my maiden name and why I don't tell people much about my past. The FBI went through everything, trying to find out what I knew. Even the FBI assumed I knew something. When I was cleared, I moved back to the suburbs outside of Chicago, where my parents lived. I waited tables and went to school and my mother helped me with Chloe. I started baking because, I don't know, I needed something to occupy my mind sometimes. So when I felt overwhelmed, I'd bake. Then people wanted to buy my stuff and it became this thing. Baking helped me forget. I made cakes for a few weddings and learned more about cake-decorating and more people started asking me to bake for them. So I'd waitress, and cakes became a side job. When my parents moved to Colorado, Chloe and I stayed for a couple more years outside of Chicago. I didn't want to feel like I was running away because I was humiliated by what Adam had done. Then we passed through West Bend."
I exhale heavily, my eyes on Killian, waiting for him to say something, anything. "You're the only person in this town who knows any of this," I tell him. "Actually, you're the only person outside of my parents that I've talked to about this."
Killian looks at me for a long time, his expression dark. He runs his hand over my head and down my hair, pressing his lips against my forehead. "I don't know what to say, Lily. That's… It means a lot that you'd tell me." Then he rolls onto his side, pulling me back against him, and strokes my hair as his lips graze the back of my neck.
The combination of his touch, the warmth of his body, and the relief of confessing this secret and not having him look at me with disgust causes me to relax into him. Before I drift off to sleep, he whispers in my ear, "I give you my word that I'm not ever going to do anything to hurt you or Chloe."
Early morning sunlight streams through the window and I roll over in bed, running my hand across the sheets. Killian's spot is empty.
"Sorry. I was trying not to wake you," Killian whispers as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. He's standing on the other side of the room dressed in his t-shirt and jeans, his shoes already on. He runs his hand through his hair. "I was trying to sneak out of here before Chloe wakes up."
He's trying to sneak out of here so Chloe doesn't see him, because he's trying to spare me from having to have an uncomfortable conversation with Chloe.
I take a deep breath before I say what I say next, because I think it's the riskiest thing I've ever said. This is jumping in with both feet, free-falling into nothing.
"Killian?" I ask.
"Yeah?"
"Stay."
"Stay. . .?"
I nod. "For breakfast." I take a deep breath. Jumping, falling. "You should stay."
Killian stands there unmoving, his face impassive. For a second, I wonder if he even wants to stay at all, especially after my confession last night. Maybe he's rethinking this whole thing. He has his bachelor pad in the mountains, and he's used to living by himself. Maybe –
His answer jolts me out of my thoughts. "I told you I'd grow on you."
"What?"
A slow grin spreads across his face. "Careful what you wish for, cupcake. You invite me to stay, I might not ever leave." He clears his throat. "You got that waffle-maker downstairs? I know you think you have the monopoly on baked goods and all, but I do make a fucking fantastic waffle."
Downstairs, Killian makes us breakfast like it's the most normal thing in the world, while I hold my breath, watching Chloe's reaction, wondering if I did the right thing by asking him to stay.
I just invited him into my life in a big way. Our lives.
Chloe waits until we're at the table and she's taken a bite of her waffle before she starts asking questions. "Are you living here?"
"I have my cabin I live in," Killian says. "But I might hang around here a little more often. If it's okay with you."