Page 26 of Into These Eyes
She nods. “But you’re missing the point. You’re innocent. And now that I know, something has to be done about—”
“Jamie,” I interrupt. “Slow down. Let’s back up a bit, okay?”
She releases a breath, her stiff shoulders drooping.
“It’s only lunchtime, so tell me … where were you this morning?” I ask, hoping I can get her to concentrate, to focus on a timeline rather than what’s clearly a jumble of emotions she’s barely containing.
“I was at the hospital. My father’s been ill with cancer. So, this morning the nurse called me and said I needed to get in there …”
I study her hands on the table, the way her fingers press into the chipped surface as if searching for a way to anchor herself. It takes a great deal of restraint not to reach out and hold them so she can squeeze something human, something that can offer comfort.
“So, you went to the hospital,” I prod.
“He was refusing the pain meds until he spoke to me. I honestly don’t even know how he had the strength … Once the nurse left …” She moves her shaking hands into her lap under the table, takes another breath, and focuses on my chest. “Then, he just said it.”
My heart rate accelerates, but I remain silent, waiting until she’s ready.
“He said he killed my mother. That he knew about her affair, and he followed her. Stabbed her.” She swallows hard and blinks fast again. “He almost took the truth with him. Ten minutes later he was dead.”
“Jesus,” I whisper. “Fuck.”
She meets my eyes. “Yeah. Fuck.”
We stare at each other for a long moment. I need to absorb what she’s told me, what it means to me, but while I’m looking at her, the only thing my mind’s consumed with is the fact that she’s sitting here, giving me the best news of my life, when her world’s just been shattered. The fact that she’s alone with me in this tiny caravan is no longer a mystery. She’s too distraught to even recognise the danger she might have put herself in had prison turned me into a real monster.
Even so, what sort of person puts their grief aside to share brilliant news with someone they hate?
“Jamie,” I say softly. “I’m so sorry … for your loss.”
She waves a dismissive hand at me. “It’s fine.”
“I’m sure it’s not.”
Her gaze snaps to the table. “Stop being so nice to me.”
“No, I won’t stop.” Resting my forearms on the table, I lean forward as her surprised eyes meet mine. “What’re you doing here, Jamie? Shouldn’t you be with family right now?”
She shakes her head. “It’s just me and my sister. She’s away, training for her career. I know I have to tell her. But I’ll wait until she’s finished for the day.”
“So, of all places, you came here?”
She nods. “You deserve to know. If I was in your shoes … well, I’d want to know as soon as possible.”
Dropping her gaze, she slowly traces the Formica’s fake woodgrain. Two things cross my mind. One, she’s here because she’s all alone. And it’s better to be with anyone—even me—than to be on her own. Two, she didn’t have to tell me about her father’s confession. She could have kept it to herself and no one else would ever have known the truth. But she hadn’t.
And that makes my heart ache. The woman sitting before me is truly special. As I’ve always suspected. Now I have confirmation.
“Jamie?” I wait for her to look me in the eye. “Thank you. I know you didn’t have to tell me.”
She frowns. “Of course I did.”
“No, you didn’t,” I say, shaking my head. “Some people would just let things lie. It can’t be taken back, can’t be reversed. It’s over with. The only way is forward. Why dredge something up that won’t change a thing except cause more trouble? That’s what some people might think.”
She studies my face with confusion. “But I would never … that’s not who I am.”
“I know. Or you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
“Then why even say that?”
