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Sniffing, she drew back and looked up at him. What she saw made her draw in a shaky breath. There was a sad tenderness in his gaze, as if her pain had somehow become his.
It felt impossibly familiar, that look, as if she'd seen it on his face a hundred times. Once again all the crazy things Vi had said seemed ... not so crazy.
/> She looked up at him. "You're not lying, are you?"
"About what?"
"You ... c-care about me."
He grazed her cheek with the roughened pad of his thumb. "Yeah, I do."
"Why?"
"Jesus, Lainie." His voice was so soft, she could scarcely hear it. "Wasn't anyone ever good to you?"
She gazed up at him, achingly aware of how much she was beginning to care for him, and even more aware of how desperately she wanted to kiss him again. The memory of every kind word he'd ever uttered, every quiet promise he'd ever made, came back, filling her with a warmth she'd never imagined feeling.
"You," she said softly. "You've been good to me."
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He sighed. "That only proves how bad your life has been."
She barely heard him. She felt light-headed, caught up in a confusing kaleidoscope of emotions.
But through it all, a constant, was the knowledge that this moment of time was an impossible gift. For the first time, she saw the magnitude of the miracle, and it filled her with awe. She felt like a person who'd died and seen the light and would never be afraid of death again.
God had given her this gift, this moment. For years she'd railed at Him, demanded retribution and recompense for her own failings and pain. She had Kelly, and her daughter meant so much to her. But so often, when Kelly was asleep, Lainie had felt achingly, depressingly alone. She'd lain in her solitary bed, praying, praying for someone to come into her life to stay.
She'd thought that no one was listening to her prayers, then she'd thought He didn't exist, but she'd been so wrong.
He'd heard her every prayer, every whispered little-girl dream, and He'd answered them in a more stunning, more miraculous way than she'd ever imagined. And after this, no matter what happened in her life from now on, she'd never be the same again.
God had given her Killian and let her know what it felt like to fall in love.
Love.
The word caught her off guard. She felt a sharp flare of terror, and instinctively she tried to call back the thought. But it wouldn't go; it was lodged in her heart like a shard of glass. She felt it with every breath, piercing and pinching.
A sob caught in her throat. She stared up at Killian. Why did it hurt so much to realize that she loved him?
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It shouldn't feel this way. She should have felt exultant, excited . . . instead of lonelier and scared. Jesus, so scared . ..
She looked up at him, saw the perplexed look in his eyes, and knew that she'd been silent too long. Her heartbeat sped up. A ragged sense of panic clogged in her chest, made her breath come in short, sharp gasps.
She had to tell him how she felt about him. Now, before it was too late, before she locked the feelings back in her heart and never found the courage to release them again.
"Killian, I ..." She froze, unable to say the words. What if he laughed? What if he didn't say it back? It had happened so often in her youth, back when she'd thrown the special words around like cheap trinkets. Never once had she heard them in return.
He touched her cheek with his thumb. "What, Lainie?"
She stared at him, gave a tiny, hesitant shake of her head.
"What were you going to say?"
/ love you. I love you. I love you. The words chased themselves around in her head until she was breathless and dizzy. She felt the moment slipping away, felt the opportunity God had given her begin to dissolve. She had to do something now to keep it together.
