Page 124 of See You Maybe
Declan remembered how Olivia told him she’d never fit in with her family, but he hadn’t realized the extent of how disconnected she felt. How isolated she was.
“When I tried to tell my parents, or even Jessica, what was happening… that I was unhappy…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t know if it’s that they didn’t believe it—Kyle does a fantastic job of the ingratiating-golden-boy routine—or if they didn’t want to believe it. I was finally married, and my parents were thrilled. According to them, it’s a woman’s true purpose. And Jessica is Kyle’s cousin. Plus, if I’d left, I would have lost everything I’d worked for.”
“You didn’t want to go somewhere else?”
“I thought about it a lot. Richard is very conservative, and Kyle had already spun the story that I was to blame for our problems. I couldn’t be sure that one of them wouldn’t say something to a potential employer, and I would be seen as damaged goods.” Olivia frowned unhappily. “Can we please not talk about this anymore?”
Declan reached for her hand, turning it over, and traced over her palm with his thumb. “Of course.”
“Thank you for bringing me soup.”
“You told me chicken soup was your favorite.”
Her brow furrowed and then cleared, her eyes stared into his. “You remembered that?”
Declan lifted her hand to place a kiss into the center of her palm. “I remember everything. I always have, Petal.”
“Then why?—”
Declan pressed another kiss to her hand, trying not to smile at how her eyes narrowed. That bastard may have hurt her, but he hadn’t crushed her.
“I will tell you. I promise. But first, let me take care of you. I need to take care of you.”
Olivia stared at him for a moment, and then with an almost imperceptible nod, she picked up her spoon with her free hand and began eating her soup, while he held her other. Declan’s shoulders relaxed. The storm that had loomed all day finally broke, and rain lashed at the tall windows along the back of her house.
“I need to tell you something.” Declan heard the thread of anxiety and fear under her words, and braced himself for whatever fresh horror she was about to share. “I think I might have killed Kyle.”
Whatever it was Declan thought Olivia was going to say, that wasn’t it. “You think you did?”
Olivia’s face paled. “I stabbed him… He ran out… I thought the police would come.”
That’s my girl.
Keeping his expression reassuring, Declan squeezed her hand. “If Kyle went to a hospital, the police would be here by now.”
Olivia looked thoughtful. “Then he’s dead.”
She didn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea.
Declan shook his head slowly. “Not necessarily. He could have patched himself up, or gotten a friend to. You don’t need to worry.”
“I don’t want to go to jail.” Her haunted eyes met his, and he squeezed her hand again.
“You won’t.”
“You don’t seem worried that I might have killed someone in my kitchen.” Olivia’s eyebrows pinched together.
Declan held her gaze, letting her see the truth. “Some people deserve to die.”
For several long beats, they held each other’s gaze, and he watched as she processed what he’d said. He could have wept with relief when she finally nodded.
“I agree.”
Later, when Declan cleared the dishes and put them in the sink, he noticed the glint of something tucked in the corner of the backsplash above the counter. He picked up a bright blue porcelain handle, turning it over in his fingers. His eyes flicked to the empty hooks in front of him.
“Can I make you a cup of tea?”
When Olivia didn’t answer, Declan took a deep breath, vowing to stay calm. The broken end of the shard stabbed his palm, but Declan welcomed the sharp pain.