The dam bursts, shattered to splintered pieces by the force of the water. If only he hadn’t said the words aloud, maybe I could have spun the story in my head.
But he said them. And there’s no going back.
I’m the reason his sister is dead.
“Darcy, I–” Words fail me as heaving sobs take control of my body. My knees crumble beneath me, but before I crash to the hardwood floor, Darcy catches me and lifts me to my feet. He doesn’t let go, but instead, draws me into his arms, holding me tight and steady.
“The interview, Darcy.”
“Shh,” he whispers against my ear. “I’ll send Bennie a text to get a hold of Ms. Towers.”
I nod and lose myself in a wave of sobs. My heart has never felt more cracked and broken. The girl who haunts my dreams sometimes is my husband’s dead sister. If I hadn't run away from the group home that night, he wouldn’t have been distracted by me. He could have watched his sister more closely.
Moments pass. Or hours. I honestly don’t know anymore. But at some point, the tears dry up, my body slumps in exhaustion, and Darcy carries me to the hotel bed.
After he tucks me in and makes his bed on the couch, the words I’ve been trying to say finally find their way out. “I’m sorry. You lost your sister because of me. That night has haunted me for as long as I can remember, but I can’t begin to imagine how it must have been haunting you all this time. If I hadn't run away from the group home, then—”
“Hayden.”
My name is a whispered plea on his lips. I sit up in bed so that I can see him. He’s sitting on the couch, legs splayed and head down in his hands as his elbows rest on his knees. The stature of a man in deep thought. Maybe even anguish. Of course he would be in pain. He just found out his wife is the reason his sister is dead.
“My heart is breaking, Hayden,” he finally says, and the admission cuts me. “I’ve blamed myself for that night for so long. My mother was in Tennessee visiting my grandparents. I had taken Ophelia to see a movie she’d been begging our father to see. When we got home, he was—” he blows out a breath, his leg bouncing, “—having an affair right there in the middle anteroom. Thankfully, I’d walked in first, so I turned Ophelia right back around and took her out for a drive. I was seething with anger and pain, so I don’t remember driving to the part of the city we ended up in. I ended up getting a flat tire, so while we waited for a driver to come pick us up, we went for a walk. She had begged me to take her for a walk, and I should have stuck to my no. It started pouring rain, and that’s when I saw you.”
Somehow, another tear forms in the corner of my eye before it rolls down my cheek. The salty taste is a bitter reminder of the tears I never shed for Ophelia Marshall. No, I ran away. I tried to forget that night happened. But every time I closed my eyes…
“I’m so sorry.” My simple apology is a plea I can’t bring myself to speak:Don’t leave me over this. I love you. Stay by my side. Please. Don’t abandon me. I’ll make it right somehow.
Darcy goes silent again, and the ache in my chest rips open little by little with each passing heartbeat. If I thought Darcy and I would ever have a real marriage, well, that possibility was washed away with the broken dam pieces.
My biggest fear is coming true.
Through another sob, though I don’t know how I can manage more tears, I whisper, “I’ll sign the divorce papers as soon as you get them to me. I know you must hate me. Despise me. You did before we were married, and now you must want to see me burn in—”
“Hayden.” He says my name with a forceful breath as he springs from the couch. In three long strides, he’s hovering over me, standing beside the bed. “I’ve spent years thinking about Opheliaand that night. I’ve often wondered what happened to the young girl who ran away in thundering rain. I’ve prayed for her. And it was—it was you. All along.” He kneels down and rubs my arms. “God answered my prayers. You survived. You’re okay. Two young girls were not killed that night by drug needles disguised as pens, and that’s a wonder to me. My sister lived a short but good life, Hayden.” He pauses and laughs without a hint of mirth. “If this information had come out earlier, I would have found a way to blame you, yes. But now? I know your soul. You deserved to get to live, to experience a good life like my sister did.”
I cower, looking anywhere but into his eyes. He doesn’t mean that, right? It should have been me, not his sister. Hemusthate me. “Seriously, Darcy. Just tell me when and I—”
He stands abruptly, his hands sliding from my arms, and then he grabs my chin and tilts my face upward until my eyes are locked with his blue eyes, a darkened color that resembles a storm lingering above the ocean.
His next words pierce me to my core. “You are not to blame, and I need to reconcile with myself that I am not to blame either. Fentanyl and arsenic are to blame. Sin is to blame. Addiction is to blame. Crappy fathers are to blame.” Then his gaze flicks to my mouth as he says, “I love you, HaydenSarahMarshall. I thought trust and love were two separate notions, but they’re not. They are intertwined, and you can’t have one without the other. I trust and love you. You are not the sum of your past mistakes. You are not the reason I lost my sister. It was God’s painful plan for us, and I see that clearly now.”
Before I can respond, he drags my lips to his. Shocked, my eyes remain wide open as he presses his lips to mine. Then his mouth moves against mine, forcing my lips apart, and I note that he tastes like the misty rain on a sunny day. With a sigh, my eyes snap close and my arms snake around his neck, drawing him closer.
As he kisses me, his name plays like a broken record in my brain.Darcy, Darcy, Darcy.Every racing heartbeat sings his tune, my own song intertwining with his melody, creating something new and beautiful and chaotic.
Darkness and sunshine.
Quiet and loud.
Reserved and spontaneous.
Serious and playful.
Two opposites, though I can no longer tell who holds which label. On the inside, I’m just like Darcy. And he’s just like my outside persona on the inside. Two people who never felt comfortable being honest about who they were finally opening up and letting the other see the real human behind the mask.
IknowI love the man behind Darcy’s mask.
He pulls away. The only sounds filling the silence between us are panting breaths. Unable to control the giddiness consuming the darkness I felt only moments ago, I burst into laughter. Darcy’s laugh mingles with my own.
