“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whispered. “I don’t know why I keep doing this. Why I keep letting the wrong men into my life. Into Frankie’s life.”
Maggie’s hand squeezed mine. “You didn’t know, Kat.”
“But I should have.” My voice broke. “I should have asked more questions. I should have been more careful. I should have—”
“Stop,” Maggie said firmly. “You can’t blame yourself for something he hid from you.”
“But I can blame myself for not seeing it.” I looked at her, my vision blurring with fresh tears. “I can blame myself for ignoring the warning signs. For letting my feelings cloud my judgment. For putting Frankie at risk.”
“What warning signs?” Rhoda asked gently.
I blinked at her. “What?”
“What warning signs did you ignore?” she repeated. “Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like Derek didn’t give you any reason to think he was dangerous.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.
Because Rhoda was right.
Derek hadn’t given me warning signs.
He’d been intense, yes. Protective. Possessive, even.
But he’d never been violent with me. Never been cruel. Never made me feel unsafe.
Until tonight.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what I missed. But I must have missed something.”
“Or maybe you didn’t miss anything,” Maggie said quietly. “Maybe he’s just good at hiding who he really is.”
“Or maybe he’s changed,” Rhoda added.
I thought about what Frankie said. About Derek confessing to her that he had hurt someone. That he was in therapy. That he was trying to be a better person.
How was I supposed to trust him?
How was I supposed to trust myself?
“I can’t do this again,” I whispered. “I can’t keep making the same mistakes. I can’t keep putting Frankie through this.”
“What are you going to do?” Maggie asked quietly.
I looked at Maggie, then at Rhoda.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I don’t know what to do.”
Maggie was quiet for a moment, her hand still holding mine. Then she said, “Come stay at the orchard.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Come stay with us,” she repeated. “You and Frankie. Just for a few days. Get away from here. Get some space to breathe and think.”
“Maggie, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” she said firmly. “You need to get out of this house. You need to get Frankie away from all of this. And you need people around you who care about you.”
I looked at her, my throat tight.
