I reach back and squeeze one of his hands. I’m not sure how to respond to this clammed-up side of him. What can I say to get him talking? I know there’s something he needs to tell me. Maybe after Amelia goes down he’ll be more forthcoming. I knowIwill. I just hope at the end of the night, he’s in my arms making good on his promise to stay with me no matter what. Because theno matter whatcould very well make or break us.
He puts on a smile during dinner, probably for Amelia’s sake, but I can tell it’s not very genuine. After dinner we play a few more games before Amelia starts yawning. Having basically given up naps for good this week, bedtime has been coming earlier for her.
After brushing her teeth, Amelia dons her jammies and comes out with an armful of books, bypassing me and heading right to Carter. It’s as if I don’t even exist when he’s around. She’s got him up on a pedestal that’s so high, I know no other man will ever measure up in her eyes.
I just hope none ever have a chance to try.
Twenty minutes later, she’s asleep in his arms. He kisses her forehead and carries her off to bed.
Anxiety tries to get the better of me when he puts her down. Because it’s time for mycome to Jesustalk. Maybe tonight, with him feeling the way he is, is not the best night. But I know I’m just looking for excuses now. Trying to come up with reasons to prolong the inevitable.
I stoke the fire, open a bottle of wine, pour two glasses, and take them to the couch.
Carter emerges from the bedroom and practically falls onto the couch next to me, as if he’s completely spent by whatever has been eating away at him.
I pick up my wine glass and take a sip. Then another. And a third. I’m stalling, and I know it.
He blows out a long, deep, controlled breath. “Someone paid off the loan on the shop.”
I stiffen. I had no idea he’d find out so soon. Closing my eyes, I steel myself to unload all my baggage. Because I’ve no choice now.
When I don’t react, he cocks his head. “Why don’t you seem surprised?” He studies my face. “Oh, shit. Maybe Jonah was wrong and Cyrus did it. Is that what you’re thinking? Is this what he does? Some lawyer scheme to, I don’t know, get control of you, or hurt me or whatever? I mean I was sure it was one of my cousins. Or maybe Tucker McQuaid. Then I thought it had to be Allie, because Christian told Bug. Jonah is looking into it, but my banker said I might have to get a lawyer…”
I want to ask who Jonah is, but as he goes on and on, I know I need to shut it down.
I swallow hard. “It wasn’t Cyrus or your cousins or Allie.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because…” My heart races. My pulse pounds. My hands shake. “Because it was me. I did it. I paid off the loan.”
His face morphs into a mask of surprise, disbelief, and complete and utter shock. Maybe he thinks I’m joking.
“You?” he asks as if he didn’t hear me.
I nod.
He stands, almost knocking over our wine glasses, and glares down at me. “What the hell am I missing here? You lived in my basement, Kenna.” He starts pacing. “But the car. And all the cash. I swear to God if you used your life savings, or did anything to get your hands on the money—”
I close my eyes and blurt, “I won the lottery.”
He guffaws. Then shakes his head. Then guffaws some more. “You…what?”
I shrug innocently.
“Bullshit.”
“No, really. I did.”
“All kidding aside, Kenna. Are you being serious?”
“One hundred percent.”
Hands rake through his hair. “Okay. I mean that’s great, but if it’s true, I won’t have you spending it all on me. That’s insane.”
As he carries on, I realize what’s happening. He must think I won some small amount. Maybe a million-dollar scratch-off that would only end up yielding a few hundred thousand after taxes.
“I can’t let you do it,” he says. “That money should be for Amelia’s future, and—”
