“She was leaving.”
I said nothing.
Georgia’s gaze came back to me.
“I heard her say something about marrying me.”
Every machine in the room seemed to grow louder.
Beep.
Hiss.
Click.
Beep.
Georgia swallowed.
“What did she mean?”
I could lie.
I had lied so many times without words. Let Georgia believe half-truths because she loved me enough to fill in the blankskindly. Let Destiny believe I was protecting her because I did not have the courage to admit I was protecting myself.
But there was a point where lies stopped being shelter and became a grave.
I was tired of burying people alive inside me.
“She was angry,” I said.
Georgia laughed once.
Not funny.
Not soft.
“Women usually are when they’ve been kissed by engaged men.”
My chest went cold.
So she knew.
Of course she knew.
Maybe she had heard that too.
Maybe she had not needed to.
I looked at her.
She stood there in jeans and a sweater, hair damp at the ends from the rain outside or maybe from washing her face in some hospital bathroom. She looked exhausted. Terrified. Humiliated in a way no woman deserved.
Especially not Georgia.
Especially not because of me.
“Did you kiss her?” she asked.
