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“They were selfish and reckless.”
Silence falls for a moment, “Love, loyalty, family. What do they mean when the heart wants what it wants?”
He leans against his palms, looking up. “They left a trail of destruction behind them.”
“I hope that in whatever form, they’re together.”
“They were together in high school, and they had a huge argument, so they broke up. When he came back, your mother had already married your father.”
“Do you think my father knew?”
“I don’t think so. Silas wouldn’t have married her.”
“They still didn’t deserve to be killed, Kieran.”
He grips the bench, and his stare pins me in place. “Your father knew you were in the car. For that alone, he deserves to die. And he will. I will destroy anyone who tries to harm you. No one will survive my wrath.”
“Am I a possession?”
His angry eyes answer for me. “You don’t possess anyone who doesn’t want to be possessed.”
“I thought you wanted to possess me.”
“I want you to only want me.”
“Why?”
“It’s only fair because you’re everything to me.”
We spend a while inhaling the freshness of the forest, hearing the skitter of animals in the bushes, their eyes watching the intruders. When I can’t suppress my yawns, Kieran takes my hand in his, and with my head resting against his arm, we go back inside.
***
On Saturday morning, we are all seated around the table. Nora’s eyes don’t stop shooting daggers at me or Kieran.
“Can we swim now?” Leonie asks.
We move outside to the pool. Tamara anticipated this, and refreshments are waiting for us on the table. I jump into the pool, and Leonie giggles, following me.
“Look how good I can swim.”
I clap, encouraging her, and with every praise, she smiles wider.
Kieran stretches his hands out and dives into the pool with the grace of a professional swimmer, cutting through the water with swift precision. It’s a cacophony of giggles and shrieks whenever he catches her.
“You’re good with kids,” I say as he wraps his arms around me. He places his chin on my shoulder and we watch Leonie holding her breath underwater.
“I could say the same about you.”
I trail a finger over his arm. “So, would you like kids?”
“Yes, a few.”
“A few?”
He whispers in my ear, causing goose bumps to appear. “Well, it depends on how many you want to give me.”
We are way too young to think about that. As if he knows what I am thinking, he says, “But only when you’re ready. College first. Maybe publish some of your stories too. I’m happy as long as I have you.”
