I’m obviously not thinking straight.
I have my foot on the second step when the front door swings open, halting my retreat. With a wince, I turn to the door, coming face to face with Mr Bennett.
His eyes widen in surprise. “Killian. How are you, son?”
My stomach tightens at the use of the nickname, and I shove my hands in my pockets. “I’m sorry, Mr Bennett. I, uh,” I grip the back of my neck, feeling awkward as shit, and flick a quick glance over to my truck. “I don’t really know why I came here.”
Mr Bennett observes me with caution and dare I say… pity. All it does it make me feel worse and confirm that I should not be here.
“Why don’t you come in,” he says, holding the door open in invitation. I debate for a second. I could just tucktail and run. Or I could finish what I started when I made the choice to come over here and get some answers.
Deciding on the latter, I press the button on my keys to lock my truck and then with a heavy exhale, I follow Daisy’s dad inside.
The entryway is dark when he closes the door behind me. The soft sound of the TV filters from the living room on the left and the smell of freshly brewed tea taints the air.
I toe off my boots by the door, not wanting to track dirt through their home and Mr Bennett disappears into the living room briefly before returning with his wife hot on his heels.
Mrs Bennett’s expression mirrors the exact one her husband gave me when he found me on his porch only moments ago and I clear my throat. “I was hoping I could talk to the two of you.”
Mrs Bennett opens her mouth to say something, but her husband speaks first. “Why don’t you go on through to the kitchen, son. We’ll be there in a minute.”
I roll my lips, dipping my head in a nod as I show myself to the kitchen. I take a seat at the dining table and attempt to compose myself.
I’m sweating profusely, my nerves shot to shit. My brain has turned to mush, and I don’t have the slightest fucking clue what I’m going to say to the two of them when they walk in here.
Now that I think about it, I’m not even sure how much they know.
Did Daisy tell them we’re married?
The noise from the TV in the living room filters in from the open door connecting to the kitchen, making it hard to hear the hushed words coming from the entry hall.
I’d bet my life savings that they’re out there right now discussing how to handle this situation I’ve put them in.
“Mama!” a familiar voice calls from beyond the open door and my spine snaps straight, my blood running cold.
No, no, no, no. She wasn’t supposed to be here.
“You’re missing the movie!” Daisy calls out, her voice drawing closer.
With wide eyes, I jump to my feet, panic rising and my head on a swivel as I debate whether I can make it out of here before she sees me.
The answer is no.
Before I even get the chance to put one foot in front of the other, Daisy’s there, standing in the doorway, her tired eyes wide and face pale as her gaze connects with mine.
Fuck.
I swallow.
Daisy stiffens.
And my heart sinks.
“Killian,” she whispers, and the sound of her voicebreaksme.
“I didn’t know you were here,” I explain quickly. The slight glimmer of hope that appeared in her eyes when they first landed on me quickly dims and I fucking hate myself for that.
“Oh,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
