I rested my forehead against hers for a moment, breathing her in, steadying myself. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
“Neither do I.”
The words came easily for both of us, like they had been waiting their turn. I stepped back just enough to give her space, because choosing something meant making room for it.
“I like you,” I said. “I want to date you. I’m just worried that my past is going to affect you and your family.”
“I understand that, but I think that’s a risk I should get to chooseto take. It’s not going to be easy, but if we want this, then we can make it work,” Kitty quietly insisted.
I trailed my thumb along her cheek. “Then I guess we will figure it out together.”
Her shoulders eased, a tension I hadn’t realized she was carrying slipping away. “Good.”
“We can’t hide this,” I continued, because this part mattered. “I’ve been trying to hide for a long time, and it hasn’t worked. I don’t want to put you in front of anything you didn’t ask for, but I’m done disappearing. If it gets to be too much, you can tell me. We adjust together.”
She nodded. “No secrets.”
“No secrets,” I agreed, and meant it.
We stood there a moment longer, not touching now, just looking at each other like we were taking inventory of what had changed. It felt solid and grounded. Like something I could build instead of outrun. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was finally back in control of my life.
A muffled voice drifted through the door. Glenna, humming loudly outside.
Kitty winced, then smiled ruefully. “We should probably face the world.”
I opened the library door to come face to face with Glenna.
“There you are,” Glenna said brightly. “I was worried you would get distracted.”
Her eyes flicked between us, reading more than we had said aloud, and her smile widened with triumph. “I knew it.”
I took a breath. “Glenna, we need to talk.”
She clasped her hands. “Of course. I have been saying that all day.”
“I’m so sorry, but you don’t have a room here,” Kitty said evenly. “Your reservation is canceled. You’ll be refunded in full.”
Her smile faltered, just slightly. “Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’m sure you’re not at full capacity. I don’t need a big room, but I do want to stay.”
“The reservation is cancelled. You need to leave, Glenna,” I responded.
She laughed softly, indulgent. “You always get dramatic when you’re stressed.”
Kitty stepped forward then, voice calm and clear. “Glenna, the SnowDrop Inn has a policy that allows us to refuse service to any guest for any reason. We’re exercising that policy right now.”
Glenna looked at her, genuinely puzzled. “But I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You crossed boundaries in the past. Repeatedly. You showing up here means that you intend to keep crossing those boundaries,” I dryly observed.
Her lips pressed together in a thin displeased line. “I know my rights.”
“And we know ours,” Kitty replied. “You’re not welcome here. I will be putting your name on the no booking list. If you continue to hang around the property, I will have to get the police involved. It’s not something that I want to do. You can avoid that by getting your things and leaving now please.”
For a moment, I thought she might argue. Instead, she sighed, wounded but resolute. “I suppose you’ll regret this at some point. I don’t suppose I can stay with you, Caleb?”
“Please leave,” I repeated.
The front door opened before she could respond.
