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As if sensing my internal struggle, she clears her throat, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap.
"Liam... if you're still interested... I... I can tell you why I came back to Willow Creek."
The sudden change of topic surprises me, but I give her a slight nod, reassuring her.
"Only if you're comfortable."
A timid smile graces her lips, her eyes still avoiding mine.
"There's something about the night," she starts softly, "and how it makes us feel more exposed. It's been a long time since I've talked about this."
The vulnerability in her voice has me aching to comfort her, to hold her like she did when I needed it. But I hold back, not wanting her to think I'm taking advantage of the moment.
So, I sit there, captivated by her words and how they paint her heart across the stormy night, waiting for her to share her story. My fears and doubts take a backseat as I focus on her, the woman who's turned my world upside down in the best possible way.
I steal a glance at her, noticing her struggle. Her mouth is slightly agape, her lips quivering in a silent attempt to form words. All I can do is sit in patient silence, offering her the space to open up. I can see her steeling herself, her fingers dancing through her long hair before she lets out a deep breath, her arms rubbing for warmth.
Without a second thought, I shrug off my jacket and extend it to her. Her doe-like eyes widen in surprise, but she shakes her head, refusing it.
"It's your jacket, Liam," she argues, her voice barely a whisper. "You should be wearing it."
"But you need it more than me right now," I insist, my lips curling into a small smile.
She hesitates momentarily before finally accepting it, a soft "thank you" escaping her lips. Watching her wrap my jacket around her elegant figure, I can't help but feel a sense of intimacy blooming.
I catch myself hoping that my jacket will carry her scent, or she’ll forget about it, giving me an excuse to see her again. It’s a dangerous thought, stirring up desires I've been fighting to suppress, desires I've no right to entertain here in her car under the cloak of the night.
Suddenly, her voice slices through the deafening silence, stammering over words, each syllable betraying her lack of confidence.
"I moved out of town a year ago," she starts, her voice shaky. "With my... my then-boyfriend, so we could study together,"
She pauses then, the echo of her words hanging heavy in the air. I prompt her gently, "Things didn't go as planned?"
She responds with a nervous laugh that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"You could say that," she admits, wringing her hands together. "I didn’t plan on being cheated on in another city, far away from all my family and friends, let alone in the first month."
My blood boils at her revelation. The audacity of the man who'd had the privilege of being with a woman like Kate, only to throw it all away. The dishonor, the lack of values, it all makes me seethe in anger.
But for now, I bury that anger deep inside, focusing instead on Kate and the pain she's bravely sharing with me.
Kate swallows hard, finding the strength to continue her story.
"I came home early that day," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "I found them... in our bed."
I feel the sharp edge of her pain, a palpable agony that cuts through the noise of the relentless rain outside. Her boyfriend's betrayal and heartbreak all come crashing down on her like a tidal wave.
"I dropped out of college and left the city the next day," she whispers. "He called and texted, but I never responded. He was dead to me the moment he betrayed my trust."
Her hands tremble, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, mirroring the rain that lashes relentlessly against the car. I can't bear to see her like this, her pain seeping into my bones, a gnawing ache that forces me to act.
Ignoring the apprehension that tugs at the edges of my mind, I gently envelop her hand in mine, offering her comfort the only way I know how.
She looks at me, a shadow of a smile playing on her lips as she tightens her grip, pulling strength from our connection. She turns her tear-filled eyes to me, giving me a trembling smile.
"I'm sorry, I'm talking too much. You probably have better things to do than listen to a girl rant about her ex."
Every fiber of my being screams at me to tread carefully, to not fall too deep. But as I grip her hand tighter, looking into her eyes, I know I've already lost.
