I inhale deeply, exhale loudly, and stare at the inky sky. The calmness is overwhelming, consuming. It’s like we’re in our own bubble.
“I—I understand.”
I don’t know how he doesn’t feel out of sorts eating here, but I try my best to be understanding.
“Have you ever lost a loved one?” he asks.
I want to tell him about what really happened to my parents, but I refrain. There’s no need to feel judged for my choices and why I stayed with a psychopath.
“Yes. My grandmother. She died when I was fourteen, and my mother was so devastated. We would have Sunday dinners with her.”
Irvin strokes my lavender hair, watching me carefully. If he suspects I’m hiding something, he doesn’t show it. I don’t want to lose the only good thing in my life.
“When will I meet your parents?”
Maybe in a different reality, he would meet them—if they were alive. And my father would have loved him. So would my mom. He’s rich, charming. Although I know they wouldn’t approve of him being a killer or a part of the American Billionaire Club. My father never spoke well of families who werebillionaires, even though he was close to one right before his passing.
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
He places his hand on mine. “If you don’t want to talk about them, then it’s okay.”
I stare at the sky and close my glossy eyes. Something in me snaps, and tears fall down my cheeks. The pain of losing my parents hits me. I want to tell Irvin about my parents, about Emerson, and how I’ve been in a state of torture—but I don’t. People always judge. They act like they’re high and mighty, like they don’t have any skeletons either.
This date is supposed to be happy and fun, but I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing but grief.
I feel bad for lying to Irvin. He deserves so much more than what I’m giving him. Breadcrumbs are the only thing I can offer anyone.
“What’s wrong, princess?”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing. I’m thinking about death.”
“Did you eat today?”
I nod. “I had breakfast.”
“I’m going to start meal prepping for you, because it’s ridiculous that you don’t take care of yourself like you’re supposed to.”
He feeds me a ham and cheese slider, and I eat it in one bite. I’m a lot hungrier than I thought I was.
“I have a lot of things going on in my life. I’ve always been like that when I’m stressed out.”
He pulls me into his lap and strokes my cheek, then kisses my forehead. I can tell him what’s really going on. I should open up to him because Irvin has always been upfront about his past.
“I have something to tell you, Irvin.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “What is it?”
My throat tightens.
“Well… it’s more of a question.”
“Okay.”
I bite my lip. “How would you feel if one of your friends killed their girlfriend’s parents?”
“I don’t have friends, Lilac. Except for you.”
The heat drains from my face. I need to know his perspective. Ever since I received a message from Ally, I’ve been thinking a lot about her actions—and what she said about it being her fault. Does she carry guilt as much as I do? I thought about reaching out to her. But what would I say?I faked my own death and changed my identity?
