Page 75 of Don't Tell

He reaches for me.

He has me by the waist before I have turned all the way around. His other hand comes up to my jaw. He kisses me — not gently. He has been holding himself back all day, and he doesn’t want to wait another second.

I kiss him back, my fingers pressing into his shirt.

Then I pull back. "So you want to touch me now we're alone?"

He blinks. "That’s the whole point of a secret relationship, isn't it?"

I step back from him. "The whole point of the secret was because of my job. My job is gone. You took the hotel. You fired the manager. There is no Cresswell to lose. I don’t have a job to be terminated from."

"I know."

"So why are we still a secret?"

He doesn’t answer.

The silence stretches.

I watch his jaw shift as he decides not to answer.

"I need some air."

"Suzanne…"

I walk out of the cottage when he calls my name, but I don't look back.

The grounds are enormous. Hedged paths, a small pond, and an old stone wall separating the gardens from the woods beyond. I walk without choosing a direction. I’m trying to breathe and think clearly without his presence.

My job is done.

The reason for the secret is gone.

I have been building a version of my life in my head where I meet his family as his, where I walk into his world as his, where I'm introduced by my actual name, but he introduced me as one of his artists.

My phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket. I look at it out of habit. The number is not in my contacts, but I know who it is. I haven’t seen this number in days.

I pick up before I have thought about it.

"Well, I didn’t think you’d pick up.” The voice is bright.

"I just wanted to say thank you. To you and to that lovely, generous boyfriend of yours."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play dumb. I won’t ask you for more money. Just wanted you to know I’ll be out of your hair for a while. I’ll be seeing ya."

The call ends.

I stand on the path and look at the wall, replaying her words over and over because none of them make sense unless Cade paid her off. She's never thanked me for anything, let alone called me just to say she'd stay away — that's the part that cracks everything open. He bought my peace without asking if I wanted it bought, and now I don't know if I'm supposed to feel grateful or gutted.

I walk back.

I cross the lawn, the path, the gravel, and I open the front door of the cottage. Cade is standing in the living room exactly where I left him, both hands at his sides, the soft lamp on.

He sees my face.

The sentence dies in his mouth.