“Really?”
“Yes. And we never went out again after that weekend.”
“Why? What happened?”
Conor exhaled hard. “She had brought that little ring with her,” he said. “She put it on, in the middle of the night, and she was wearing it when we woke up. She told me that she had worn it ever since I’d given it to her. That she had taken the ring as a promise that we would always be together—that we would get married when we grew up.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she said.
“She said she was sure that I felt the same way,” Conor said. “And that it was such a gift that we were finally together again, that now we could start planning.”
“Planning what?”
“Yeah. I asked her that too. She said that it was destiny, that we were meant to be a couple. She told me that she had been sending me emails for months—she was the anonymous emailer—and that the quotes were fromBeauty and the Beast. She said that she was Belle, and I was the Beast.”
“Just like she said to me,” Kate said.
“Yes,” Conor said. “She asked where we would live. Basically, she wanted to know if it should be her place or mine. I was so shocked, I hardly knew what to say. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I also didn’t want to lead her on. And even more—I felt that she was crazy. Deluded doesn’t cover it. She was truly out of touch with reality.”
“Sounds it,” Kate said.
“I kept my voice very steady and told her that we were just getting to know each other again, that it wasn’t possible to plan a future when we hadn’t seen each other since childhood. It felt bizarre to even have to say that—it was so obvious. The look in her eyes changed in that second—from dreamy to furious. She accused me of using her, basically just taking her away for the weekend when all I wanted was sex, how I was a user, a bad guy, and how she was going to tell everyone in my department what a shit I was. She was going to spread the word.”
“Did she?” Kate asked.
“No,” Conor said. “But she wrote to me. She mailed the letter and emailed a copy. It was pages long—just spewing vitriol, how I’d thrown the best thing in my life away, how I thought I was so special, too good for everyone. What a phony I am, what a liar, what a player. She said I needed therapy to address how toxic I am. How I would never have love in my life because I was incapable of feeling or giving it. She told me that she had lots of men after her—guys smarter, better looking, and richer than me. She said she could marry a doctor tomorrow if she wanted and that I didn’t know what I was missing.”
“A doctor,” Kate said. “That’s interesting. Did she keep contacting you?”
“Not at first,” he said, wondering why she had homed in on the doctor part of Belinda’s rant. “She disappeared. At first, I was sure she’d be back—I kept waiting for her to show up. Or for the calls and emails to start up again. And they did—always anonymously. At one point, I received an envelope with a baby tooth and a lock of hair in it.”
“It was from her,” Kate said.
“I assume so,” Conor said. “There was a note inside, but it wasn’t signed. I never saw or heard from her again until Friday—until she came here with Garrett.”
“When I saw you at the seawall?” Kate asked.
“Yes,” Conor said. “That’s when she showed me the ring and also the baby picture. She told me it was my daughter—from that one night.”
Kate was silent for a moment, staring across the room. “Could that be true?”
“No,” Conor said. “I hate getting specific about that night, Kate. But I have to, because I want you to know. I used protection. I brought it with me.”
Kate nodded. Conor knew he’d said enough, and when she looked at him, he could see a certain resolution in her eyes. “I believe you,” she said.
She slid closer to him and put her head on his shoulder. They sat there for a long time. The sun had completely gone down, and the livingroom was dark. Through the door that opened to the terrace, they could hear music and voices drifting up from the beach.
“Hear that?” she asked after a few minutes.
And he did—the first explosion, the start of the fireworks.
“They’re for us,” she said. “They mark the end of our wedding weekend.”
“The end of us?” he asked.
“No,” she said, smiling. “We’re still us.”
He held her tighter.
