Taking a deep breath, I set my frustration aside and remind myself why I’m here. We were going out. I had everything planned. No way in hell am I going to let this new revelation throw a wrench in my plans.
We’re going to have ups and downs. Disagreements. But part of being in a relationship is working through disagreements like this. I take another deep breath. I just gotta be calm and collected so we can talk through this.
“Why did you decide to meet with Holt’s mom?” I ask, keeping my tone even.
Cecilia chews on her bottom lip. “I didn’t exactly decide to meet with her … it err … it wasn’t really planned,” she says.
“What is that supposed to mean?” My voice tightens despite my best efforts.
She rubs the back of her neck and glances at me. “Can we just ... go out? If we start talking about this now, you're going to get mad, and I really want us to have a good day.”
I pause, exhaling through my nose. “I’m not going to get mad.” The way she looks at me says otherwise, and it stings, but I push it down. “I swear. I just ... need to understand. Keeping me in the dark like this, it's messing with my head. Help a guy out because I’m low-key spiraling here, babe.”
Her shoulders relax a little, her expression softening. “You promise?”
“I promise.” I sigh. “Just talk to me.”
“And you’ll let me finish my story. No interruptions and no freaking out.”
I nod.
“Okay.” She takes my hand and pulls me upstairs, like she needs the comfort of familiar spaces to say everything she needs to. She sits on the bed, her back against the headboard, tapping the space beside her. I join her, wrapping my arm around her as she leans into me, and I steel myself for whatever’s coming.
“After Felix dropped me off, I went for a walk and?—”
She spends the next ten minutes telling me what happened, and true to my word, I don’t interrupt her. Not once. Where I fuck up, however, is that I am absolutely freaking the fuck out and it is taking every ounce of my control to keep that to shit inside my own head because What. The. Fuck?
When she finishes, I can barely breathe.
“So, that’s sorta everything,” she says quietly, almost like she’s waiting for me to blow up.
I nod, even though my chest is tight with emotions I can’t fully unravel. “Mmhmm.” I don’t trust myself to speak right now. I’m doing everything I can to rein my temper in. And it’s not like I’m pissed with Cecilia. She’s the victim in all this. But fuck if I can help it, because despite knowing that, I’m seeing fucking red.
“What are you thinking?” she asks softly, shifting against me.
I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head to keep myself calm. “I’m not really thinking about anything,” I lie. Truth is, I’m thinking about a million things, and none of them feel good.
She glances up at me, searching my face, trying to read what’s going on inside my head. “Are you sure? Because you feel ... tense.”
I force out a laugh but it’s strained. “Yeah, just ... processing.”Trying not to lose my shit,I don’t add.
Her fingers trace lazy patterns on my arm, and it’s comforting in a way that makes the frustration even harder to deal with. I want to protect her, to make all this shit go away, but I can’t. Not when she’s considering letting the guy who ruined her life walk away with just a few years behind bars.
“And you’re not mad?”
I shake my head.
I wish I could give her more than that right now, but I’m still working through the fact that she was fuckingkidnappedby Holt’s psychotic mother and that she’s even entertaining the idea of a plea deal.Five years?It’s a slap on the wrist for what that asshole did to her.
“How do you feel about the deal?” I ask, my voice tight.
At the end of it all, that's really what matters. I want what’s best for Cecilia, and I don’t want her manipulated into agreeingto something she doesn’t want. But if this is what she wants … what shereallywants … then who am I to object?
She shrugs, eyes dropping to the space between us. “I don’t know ... It feels like it’s the only way to make sure Gregory and Parker don’t get away scot-free. I … I don’t think I’m okay with that.”
In her shoes, I know I wouldn’t be. It’s just … fuck. There is no clear-cut path here.
“What if he gets out early? What if he’s back before you’re ready?”
