Page 36 of Known By You
Fine. I cried.
I sat next to a nice boy who bought me donuts I hadn’t even tasted yet with the perfect view of the mountains, and I cried.
The sun had started peeking out of the clouds, rays of light fanning out across us and beyond, all the way to the horizon. My heart filled with a mixture of heartbreak and hope so potent, I simply couldn’t stop it, nor did I try.
These last few days had felt like someone else’s life I’d stepped into. I’d been going through the motions, disconnected from myself, until I’d seen Evie. Something about the bruising on her face and the pain in her gaze had yanked me down to Earth. I was in it now. I still felt like a stranger to myself, but the last twenty-four hours had throttled allsense of normalcy from me, and I’d briefly released the countdown to the return to my regular life because…
Because the glimpses of life here were grabbing at me in a way I couldn’t escape.
This gorgeous view and the kindness of Elise and Ethan and the bustling energy of the mountain town on a busy morning and this man…
I’d needed this quiet moment, and he’d given it to me.
“You okay?”
His low voice startled me, and I swiped at my tears again. A watery laugh escaped, and I blew out all the rest of the pent-up emotion before daring to look at him. His piercing blue eyes were riveted on me, waiting patiently.
Any plan to keep everything locked away crumbled in the face of his kindness and yet readiness to listen. “I know it’ll shock you to learn this, but I’m not really here by choice.”
His brows rose. “No?”
I shook my head. “I mean, I’mhere, but not on sabbatical. And the way that happened was—” I sighed, completely uninterested in delving into those details right now because they weren’t the point. “Well, it was bad. I feel small and unsure right now, and I can say with certainty I haven’t felt that very often in my adult life.”
I’d made a point to avoid anything that shook my foundations. I hated instability. That was part of what drove me so far from home to college—I’d hated the way my parents’ marriage was so clearly on shaky ground, and they’d refused to acknowledge it.
I’d fled that uncertainty and run full-tilt toward an institution and a career track that had felt clear and possible. Not that moving up in the ranks of an organization like theCIA or Kappa Sector was easy or even guaranteed, but it all felt manageable, attainable, and organized.
Plus, turned out I was good at being a spy. Really damn good at it, and the years of feeling like an absent daughter and a mediocre sister had been smoothed, at least a little, by the success and security at work. My job brought results, even if I didn’t tangibly feel them myself. But I saw it happen, saw the bad guys being taken down, evil networks collapsed, innocents kept safe, clueless they’d escaped from a terrible fate but that was the point, because it meant we’d done our job and they were none the wiser. People like me worked in the shadows, and I’d been okay with it.
But when I’d booked a flight here, I’d thought it might feel like a quick vacation. I’d assumed I could keep Silverton and visiting Jo and seeing this town and even working for Saint Security firmly on the temporary detour on the route back to my regular life. And somehow, though time was passing and I should be getting an update on the status of my return in the near future, it didn’t seem so simple anymore.
“I think—” He stopped, lips pressing together in a thin line.
“Don’t start being shy on me now, Barbie.”
He sent me a squinty-eyed glare, maybe for my use of his nickname. But I wanted his words—wanted to know what he thought about my confession.
“I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to fix anything. I’ve learned that’s not helpful. But I want to say I think it’s normal to have times when we feel just that—adrift. We don’t know which way to go or what’s ahead. We thought we had this plan of how life would look and something changes, usually something unexpected, and we reroute. But it’s not automatic, and if you’re someone who plansahead, it can be painful.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes back on the mountains in front of us.
“Sounds like you’ve been there,” I said, wondering how recently he’d experienced this feeling, and maybe, how long it took him to figure out what came next.
He nodded. “I have.” He held up his left hand and gave me the most pitiable look. “Ever since that witch cut off my fingers for her potion.”
I chuckled, grinning despite the eye roll I was giving him. “That would be a sudden change.”
“Indeed. Changed the trajectory of my life.” He held up the bags of donuts. “We’ve waited long enough. It’s time.”
Though I would’ve liked more from him—more of his insight and more about what he’d gone through—I could see his need for the subject change. He’d been involuntarily dragged into his past once already in the last few days after seeing his family, so it didn’t seem fair to push.
I slipped my hand into the sack he handed me, going for the glazed first. It was pillowy but had a good amount of give when I picked it up. The glaze made it shiny, and I could smell the sweetness from here.
Like a woman starved, I took a huge bite into the mouthwatering delight and instantly groaned with pleasure. It was the perfect, toothsome texture, the glaze sweet without being overpowering. It was so. Good.
Kenny, whose attention had been on me as I took that first bite, coughed and pounded on his chest like maybe he’d choked. I watched as his eyes fluttered, then shifted to me, his brow pinched as though in pain.
“Gonna make it?” I asked, curious how he’d choked on air considering he held a fully intact donut in his hand.
He scrubbed his free hand over his face. “Yeah. Yep. I sure will.” Then he shoved his glazed donut into his mouth,taking a bite that was easily three quarters of the rather large donut.
