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“We can’t go on like this. She can’t go on like this,” Michael said again. “We have to know what we’re dealing with here. We can’t go forward until we’ve addressed the past—whatever it is. ”
“Did you see her?” Seth asked hoarsely. “Did you see her? She’d checked out. She was here but wasn’t. She was caught in some horrible nightmare that only she knows about. And goddamn it, I can’t help her if I don’t know how. ”
“Give her time. Just a little. We’ll do as she begged. For now,” Dillon said grimly. “But tomorrow this stops. If I have to sit on her, we’re going to find out what’s hurting her so much. ”
Lily stared out the window from her position on the bed. Dawn was slowly creeping over the horizon. She hadn’t slept. Hadn’t been able to do anything more than lie there and exist in another time and another place. Her sins lay at her feet. Unavoidable.
She stirred and her full bladder protested. She considered lying there longer, but her need became more persistent until finally she got up and shuffled into the bathroom.
When she was done, she walked back into the bedroom and dismissed the bed, suddenly hating it and the comfort it offered. Quietly, she
walked toward the living room, stopping a moment when she saw the three men sprawled at intervals on the couch and in the chairs.
The ache inside her heart intensified, and she crept by on soundless feet, still clad in only the T-shirt they’d put on her the night before.
At the back door, she pushed at the sliding glass door and shivered as the cool morning breeze blew over her skin. She stepped outside, her feet bare, and looked around with disinterest.
Her focus sharpened as she saw the wooden bench perched under an aspen tree several feet away from the deck she stood on. She walked mechanically, stopping in front to stare at the faded wood.
She turned again and eased down, her hands sliding across the rough surface before curling around the edges so tight her knuckles went white.
How long she sat there, she wasn’t sure. She focused on the distant mountaintop and the rugged terrain surrounding her, trying to absorb the peace that seemed so prevalent no matter which direction she looked.
Then she looked heavenward as tears she didn’t think she had to shed stung and crowded the corners of her eyes. “Please,” she whispered. “I can’t go through that again. If you’re listening, please. I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve forgiveness, but please give me your mercy. ”
The sun gleamed, a bright orb that hung over the horizon, creeping higher with each passing second. The rays bathed her in warmth and yet nothing could fill the empty, aching void inside her.
“Lily, my God, what the hell are you doing out here?”
She turned to see Dillon hurrying out, Seth and Michael hot on his heels.
“You’re going to freeze to death,” Michael bit out. “You aren’t dressed, for God’s sake. ”
Seth knelt in front her and took her cold hands in his. “Honey, you have to come inside. Please. We need to talk about this. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on. ”
He went blurry in front of her as tears streaked silently down her face. He rubbed them gently away, his eyes so filled with worry that she flinched.
Without another word, without asking or demanding, he simply scooped her into his arms and carried her back toward the house. He took her into the living room, placed her on the sofa and immediately enveloped her in the warmth of a blanket.
Dillon and Michael stood a mere foot away, concern etched into their brows.
She hugged her legs to her chest and rocked back and forth, praying for the strength to tell them what she’d hidden so deep inside her heart for so long.
They deserved to know. She should have told them long before now. They might not want her after they knew the truth. She’d been too involved in the fantasy—in the utter joy and contentment she’d found in their relationship.
But it couldn’t last. The past always caught up no matter how hard or fast you ran.
Michael slid onto the couch beside her. Dillon took the other side and Seth hunkered down in front of her, his gaze imploring her to talk to them.
“I was married before,” she began in a faltering voice.
She saw the surprise in their expressions, but they remained quiet, waiting for her to continue.
“I was an art student, not far from graduation. I was different. Did my own thing. Loved painting and drawing. Didn’t pay a lot of attention to the world around me. I met Charles in my senior year. He seemed wildly attracted to me. Loved my quirks and my idiosyncrasies. ”
She took in a deep breath. “Before I knew it, I found myself pregnant. I was young and irresponsible. I was scared to death to tell Charles. He was older. Had an established, well-paying job as a financial planner. I needn’t have worried. He was thrilled. He wanted to marry me, and I thought it was the right thing to do. I was half in love with him and warmed to the thought of us being a family.
“He insisted I quit school. He didn’t approve of my career choice or my desire to paint and said there was no need since he could provide for me and the baby. He wanted a housewife. The perfect wife and mother to keep up his home, cook his meals and be a companion to dinners and parties.
“I loved to cook and was too young and infatuated to balk at putting aside my art. The few times I dabbled at home, he was dismissive of my efforts and frowned upon it taking time from my real duties. ”
“He sounds like a first-rate jackass,” Dillon growled.
She smiled faintly. “I had a good pregnancy until the end. I was diagnosed with preeclampsia and had to be on bed rest the last few weeks before I delivered. I was tired and worn out and worried sick that something would happen to my baby. Charles was working long hours and so I was alone a lot in the house.
“I went into labor and delivered a perfectly healthy baby girl. Rose,” she said softly. “I named her Rose because she was like a perfect bloom in the spring when the petals are so vibrant and start to unfurl.
“I had a long delivery and was exhausted. They sent me home after two days but I never seemed to catch up. It was a whole new world to me. Suddenly I didn’t just have the house and the cooking. I had this new baby who was dependent on me twenty-four, seven. I breastfed her and sometimes she ate around the clock, it seemed.
