“She has a way with words.”
Cora laughs. “Jesus, why do they think I’m pregnant? I thought your father would clue your mother in. I feel horrible for lying to them.”
I walk to her and place my hands on either side of her face. This is the perfect time to come clean.
“Cora—” I whisper.
“Oh my God.” She pushes past me and runs toward the wall of windows, flinging the door to the terrace open. “Is this your backyard?”
She leans against the marble banister, her feet swinging in the air as she takes in the manicured lawn, groomed hedges, and flower beds.
“There is a lake, and a fountain? This place is just… I think I want to live here.” She looks at me, her eyes dancing with excitement.
Okay, confession interrupted by the view.
“Slow down. I’m almost thirty; I’m not moving back with my parents.”
She laughs. “I never had a garden. I always wanted one.”
That wasn’t on her list in the sunflower book. “We’ll have the largest garden ever.”
Her eyes search mine. Shit. My promises and commitments are coming left, right, and center, and we both know we need to talk about this marriage that started on false pretenses.
She rises to her tiptoes and kisses me. And I kiss her back. Deeply. Slowly. Willing every unspoken thing to pass through our lips like this instead.
I kiss her because it’s easier than talking.
She leans into me. The tension leaks from her bodylike air from a balloon. When I pull away, she rests her forehead against my chest.
“I love your family.”
“Wait till you meet my brother and Dad.” I sigh, kissing her crown.
“Don’t do that. I was nervous about Lottie and your mother, and it went almost without a hiccup. And I love Nana Sybil.”
“Only because she likes your hips.”
She laughs.
I smooth her hair back, my hand lingering. Her scent settles into my skin, into my bones. This moment should feel safe.
But it doesn’t.
Because the weight of the lie I haven’t told her about yet sinks deeper into my chest.
She deserves the truth. About why I really asked her to marry me. About my father’s true ultimatum.
I stroke her cheek and kiss her hair.
I’ll tell her.
After dinner.
Or after one more day where everything feels like it could be real.
Even if I already know…
That the truth will ruin it all.
