Page 113 of Kylie

“For Kylie,” he said simply.

I turned my attention out the window again.

“Isn’t that what you want?” Gage asked.

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I said honestly. I’d thought about it. Which was why I’d called a lawyer. I wanted to know what our legal options were.

“Travis?”

“I want to be married to you both,” I bit out. It was all I’d wanted since the day the three of us decided to live together, to share our lives. Kylie and I had been married, so we’d left things as they were. Not because that was how I wanted it, but because it had been the easy answer to everything. Legal documents had covered everything else once we started having kids.

Our relationship had never been simple. Not in many ways, but especially when it came to a legal perspective. We were committed to one another, but the law didn’t afford us legal protection the same way it did for a couple.

“I don’t know that I want to change it,” I admitted, hating myself for feeling that way.

“You don’t?” The surprise in Gage’s tone nearly broke my heart.

I met his gaze. “I love you. I love bein’ married to you. But I loved bein’ married to her.” I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “No, I don’t wanna change it.”

“I thought for sure you’d want…”

I swallowed hard, reaching for Gage’s hand. I twined our fingers as we sat there, staring out into the early October morning.

“This has never been easy, Gage. But you’re not a goddamn afterthought, or a fucking consolation prize because we thought she was dead.”

His fingers tightened on mine.

“We’ll talk to her,” I said, although I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Ultimately, I wanted to give Kylie her life back. I would walk through fire to make her happy, but there was no denying that some things had changed. And while I was grateful that she was home with us, I wasn’t sure that taking away from one person to give to another was the right thing to do.

Hell, I wasn’t really sure about much of anything right now.

Kylie

Once the kids were off to school and the house was quiet, I found I couldn’t sit inside. While my surroundings were vastly different, the silence reminded me of being locked in that shit hole. So instead of letting the silence choke me, I opted to sit on the front porch and watch the neighborhood come to life. I’d done it enough now that it had become routine, and I found I looked forward to it.

As I sat on the porch swing, a cup of coffee in hand, I tried to tell myself that this new normal was okay. It wasn’t exactly what I had envisioned when I’d been trapped in that shit hole, but it was better than being chained to the floor, starving to death. No, maybe Travis and Gage didn’t look at me the same as they once had, and my kids didn’t recognize me as the mother they had mourned before, and my family didn’t reach out to me for questions or advice anymore, but it wasn’t necessarily bad.

“It’s bad,” I muttered, hating that my subconscious was having a battle with itself.

The roar of an engine pulled me from my thoughts, dragging my attention toward the end of the street. A moment later, a motorcycle appeared. I watched as it crept up to the house slowly, the throaty rumble of the engine almost soothing. Right up until it turned into the driveway.

I swallowed past the panic, forcing myself to sit there rather than race into the house and lock the doors. This person would quickly realize they had the wrong house. And they had to have the wrong house. I mean, it was the middle of the day. Surely he wasn’t coming to kidnap or kill me. Someone would see.

My gaze snapped to the houses across the street. There were no cars in the driveway.

Okay, so maybe people weren’t home because they were at work or at school. But there were cameras. Two on our house, even. And they were visible from the street.

I looked back at the driveway. The man remained seated on the motorcycle after he turned off the engine. He proceeded to remove the helmet and the sunglasses shielding his eyes. As soon as he did, I exhaled heavily, a little dizzy from holding my breath.

“Mornin’, Kylie,” Archer Halligan called out as he dismounted.

“Mornin’,” I replied, hoping he did not hear the retreating panic or the way my heart was pounding in my ears. “Nice bike.”

I took a few more deep breaths and forced my shoulders to relax.

He flashed a grin, and it was then that I realized Archer Halligan was ridiculously attractive. And I meant that in the most platonic way. I had the right to appreciate a good-looking man, didn’t I? After all, I was married, not dead.

The thought made me snort. I definitely wasn’t dead, but technically, I wasn’t married, either. But that was something to ponder another day.