Page 60 of My Secret to Protect

She’s been inside for a couple of hours. I listened at her door, and after finding it silent, I opened it to find her sleeping, wearing her sweatpants and a tank, spread out mostly on her front. Guilt hit me square in the chest as I looked at her. She looked younger in her sleep. She looked like the girl I fell in love with, and I took a minute to realize how fucking hard this all must be for her.

She dated this guy, as much as thinking about it fucking fills me with rage, and she had sex with him. She trusted him enough to let him get close to her in that way, and now he’s torturing her. He feels untouchable to her, and I’m the only person she can talk to about it.

‘Sorry I was bratty,’ she says as she drops into the seat next to mine but stares out at the lake in front of us. I stare ahead as I respond.

‘Sorry I was a dick.’

She laughs, and the sound is perfect. ‘That’s kind of your thing.’

‘Yeah, I guess it is.’ I meet her gaze as she looks over toward me. ‘Truce?’

She nods and holds out her hand for mine. I take it and ignore the sparks that fire out around my body at the feel of her small hand in mine.

‘Yeah, truce.’ She agrees, and pushing up from my chair, I stand.

‘You need to eat.’

Bree smiles softly as I make my way into the cabin and start to prepare us some lunch.

‘Can I ask you about him?’ I say as we sit opposite each other at the table on the deck, eating the chicken salad I made us.

‘I already told you everything I know.’ She shrugs, and I shake my head.

‘Nah, I mean like—’ I pick up a paper towel and wipe my mouth and hands before leaning back in my chair. ‘Okay, so in my mind, he’s this weasley, skinny, nerdy little shit, but he got a woman like you to date him, so I need to make sense of that.’ She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. ‘How did he do it, Bree?’

‘We met in a club,’ she takes a sip of water before continuing, ‘he was hot, and he was interested. He asked for my number, and he actually called, so we dated.’

‘How did we get from there to here? Did he hurt you then or threaten you in any way back then?’

‘No, honestly, when we were dating, he was a gentleman. He was kind and sweet. He was attentive, but the spark just wasn’t there.’

‘The spark…’ It’s not a question, just me trying to understand.

‘I want real, Arlo.’ Her gaze meets mine, and I drop my eyes to my plate, picking up my fork to eat more food even though I’m done. ‘I want to fall in love and have forever with somebody, and he wasn’t ever going to be that, so I ended it.’

‘How did he take that?’

‘He tried to convince me we just needed more time, but I don’t have time. I’m not getting any younger.’

‘None of us are, pix.’

‘Plus, he wanted kids,’

‘You still don’t?’ She never did. I loved that she was always so sure of that, and the way she shakes her head without hesitation tells me she still is.

‘I think he thought I’d change my mind. Most guys do.’

‘Assumed your clock would start ticking?’ I press, and she nods, smiling slightly.

‘And it has, but not for kids. For love, a partner. For a life with somebody next to me.’ She drops her attention for a moment as though those last words tumbled out of her without her meaning to let them. ‘When the messages started coming in, he never even crossed my mind. Honestly, once we stopped seeing each other, I never thought about him at all until I saw him in that restaurant. Every night, when I lay awake, going over everything in my mind, I just can’t believe that it’s him, that he’s capable of doing any of this.’

‘You’re certain, though, that it is him?’ I hate questioning her, but she doesn’t take offense. She just nods yes before answering.

‘Without a doubt. It all added up, but then the day at the station when I went to report him, he showed his hand.’

‘We’re going to stop him, Bree,’ I assure her, reaching out without thinking to take her hand on the table, and she inhales as she puts down her fork and raises her eyes to meet mine.

‘I don’t want you to get hurt.’ Her words are sincere, and she turns her hand over underneath mine, our fingers connecting in the way they used to, intertwined, my thumb starting to stroke over the soft skin of her hand.

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