But she was determined. “After everything Mark did for you,” Candace continued, flinging her arms wide and dislodging my hold. “He protected you. He married you. Saved you from being pregnant and disowned. He kept your secrets and went along with your lies. And you never even once thought about coming clean, helping him in return.”
Before she could say more, Lyndsey barreled into Hannah’s side, grinning happily and wrapping herself around her mother’s legs. Hannah managed to look away from her accuser and reach for her daughter, mustering up a pained smile. “Hi, baby. Did you get your cookie?”
All I wanted was to watch—to look at Lyndsey up close. Instead, I forced myself to use the disruption to grab Candace’s hand and tug her away from the scene she’d made infinitely worse.
The man who’d been with Lyndsey at the counter was staring at the tense standoff in confusion. Candace was still red-faced and angry, but she let me lead her away.
Hannah listened as her daughter kept up a steady stream of chatter, but she looked brittle, like one strong breeze would shatter her.
It was the final glimpse of the group, though, that had me even more desperate to escape. Reverend Price and his wife were staring at me. And they weren’t wearing their rehearsed expressions of disapproval. They looked utterly shell-shocked.
I ignored the questions in their gaze, the sudden awareness, the disbelief.
As I led Candace away from the Bake Shop, I noticed everyone’s eyes were trained on us. Neighbors and friends and Candace’s family too. But I couldn’t focus on that. Something tragic and terrible settled like a weight around my neck.
I couldn’t believe Candace had been so reckless and rash. She’d taken it upon herself to cast doubt and suspicion on my marriage to Hannah. She’d practically revealed the truth right there for everyone to hear.
My breaths were coming fast, sawing in and out, as my steps quickened and my heart pounded. I dropped Candace’s hand, desperate to get away from the mess she’d made. Her footsteps trailed me, but escape was my only concern at present.
Vaguely I heard Mac announce that it was time for all farm visitors to go due to a private event.
My feet carried me farther onto the farm, off the worn dirt path and over grass, until I reached the gazebo, right where we’d started. With my hands on my hips, I paced to the railing to stare out at the water. But I didn’t see the ripples on the surface or the fountain in the center. The red and green lights didn’t register over the blood rushing in my ears.
When I could manage a full breath, I turned to face Candace. She stood in themiddle of the gazebo, her arms crossed, her face flushed, and her gaze focused on the wooden planks beneath her boots.
“That wasn’t your place, Candace.”
She nodded slowly but still wouldn’t look at me. “That’s probably true, but I couldn’t just stand there and let them treat you like that.”
“Do you understand the damage you just caused?”
Finally, her eyes rose to meet mine and anger flared anew. “I was protecting you. You deserve to have someone stand up for you.”
I was already shaking my head. “Not like that. Not at someone else’s expense.” Candace opened her mouth, the argument ready and waiting on her tongue, but I shook my head again. “No, you don’t get to decide that. It’s not your job to breeze back into town and upend everyone’s lives. You don’t have the right to mete out justice as you see fit. I planned to honor my word to Hannah.”
Candace released a frustrated breath. “I am so fucking tired of you defending that girl. She’s a monster. And what has all that honor gotten you, Mark? While Hannah plays the victim with her family and her friends and everyone in this town, you stay home. You don’t go out. You hide away to keep the peace. You’re the villain ofherstory when you should have been the hero. People gossip and hold something against you that isn’t even true. You don’t correct them. You don’t defend yourself. You live this small existence. It’s not fair!”
Her shouted words echoed across the landscape, and I felt them vibrate painfully through my bones.
Of course, I lived with the decisions I’d made. And yeah, at times, I resented Hannah. After all, she got to lead the life I’d agreed to...without me in it. There was a three-year-old holding her hand right now who didn’t even remember me. It wasn’t just my reputation I’d lost. It was bigger than that, and Candace didn’t have the right to question the way I lived now as a result.
As I struggled to steady myself, Candace took a step closer and lowered her voice. “Aren’t you tired of living a lie that’s not even yours? Aren’t you tired of being held hostage in your own home?”
“My life is quiet,” I argued. “It’s small, and I’m okay with that.” I’d lost the onlyfamily I’d ever known, and Candace wanted to focus on trivialities, like how I stayed home on Friday nights.
She pressed her hands together in a pleading gesture. “It’s small because you’ve accepted it as your due. You don’t think you deserve more, so you’re settling for less. You let Hannah whittle you down and for what? Soshecan save face because she’s too cowardly to admit the truth? She’s not a kid anymore. You don’t need to keep making excuses for her. She used you and then cast you aside when it no longer suited her. And she’s not sorry. She’s not even here. She ran away so she wouldn’t have to see you and face what she’d done. Kirby Falls isn’t her home anymore. It’s yours, but you’re a prisoner here, Mark. Can’t you see that?”
Her words were salt in an open wound, one I’d ignored and left untreated for a very long time. Pain and anger had me lashing out to protect myself from the new threat—Candace and her accusations, a dozen things I didn’t want to think about all while an image of a little girl I barely recognized flashed behind my eyes.
“You were the one who saw Kirby Falls as a prison,” I countered spitefully. “You were the one who needed to run away to make something of yourself. Maybe everything and everyone here is just too small for you, Candace. This is my life, and I like it just fine.”
“You’re happy?” she challenged.
“I’m fine,” I insisted.
She drew in a slow breath and watched me for a long moment. “I’m sorry for what I said back there. And how I said it. You’re right. It wasn’t my place, but I couldn’t stand there?—”
“You should have let me handle it,” I interrupted.
