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The risk to me through my name brought Thayer into my life. However, the danger coming to a resolution could result in injury, or worse, to myself or others involved. Nope, not dwelling on that right now.
With a grin, Thayer inquires, “How was your day?”
I return it, appreciative of his attempt to make this as normal as possible, and inform him, “Went out with the girls, walked around the park and basked in the sun. Now I’m sharing a meal with a dashing gentleman.”
Leaning closer he asks, “Is that so?” I nod. “You look quite fetching,” he compliments me. I giggle at our word choices, loving the silliness of it all when it’s been nothing but seriousness up to this point.
I’m not saying I don’t understand the need for it, only that it comes with tension and anxiety.
“This old thing?” I bat my lashes.
“It’s not the what. It’s the who,” he explains, repeating my earlier sentiment.
“We shouldn’t,” I remind him as we inch closer, our faces mere millimeters apart. “It’ll make this harder.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” I whisper. “Seeing you every day, not being able to do anything about it. That hurts.” I don’t want to put this weight on him. I should be strong and continue resisting as he is. He’s prioritized my safety over his needs. I ask the question that’s kept me up more nights than I care to admit. “What if there isn’t an after for us when this is done?” Basically, what if one or both of us don’t make it.
“Sunbeam,” he groans, pressing his forehead to mine. “Nothing will happen to you.” It doesn’t escape my notice that he isn’t making the same promise about himself. Which yeah, I call him on.
“And you?”
**Thayer**
I want to give her the reassurance she craves, but I can’t. “I’ll do whatever I can to ensure it doesn’t.” At least I can vow that.
Her eyes water and I lift my thumb to catch a tear as it starts to fall. I tell her of Dwayne’s thoughts regarding absolutes. She mulls it over, then nods a few minutes later. “I get that.” Lillian is quiet and I fear I’ve upset her, but instead, she gives me a peek at what shaped her into the woman I’m falling – have fallen – for. “I’m adopting that stance. My parents,” she sits back, arms going around her waist in a gesture I’ve recognized as her form of self-comfort, like she’s never been able to rely on others to provide it. “They lied to me my whole life. Let me believe they actually cared about me, about each other and our little family.”
I don’t know what to say and anything I try would sound inadequate. My upbringing seems almost idyllic in comparison. Was it perfect? Far from it. Did I know I was wanted, cherished? Most definitely. “Lillian,” I softly coax her, not wanting her to continue if she’d rather not, yet letting her know I’m here if she wants to.
“Sure, they might’ve been happy in the beginning,might have,” she stresses. “As I aged, though, they stopped hiding how they truly felt. And it wasn’t good.”
Lillian doesn’t offer more and I don’t push. It’s obvious by what she did share that it still hurts her. I know it won’t be the same, but my parents will adore her. Their affection for her will not erase what she missed out on or magically make the pain she’s felt because of it better. It will, however, hopefully ease some of it.
“That’s why you value honesty so much.” It’s not a question, but more of an affirmation of my theory. With a soft kiss that promises more to come, I ask, “What are your thoughts about pineapple on pizza?”
“Don’t you arrest people for that kind of crime?”
“I’ll add it to the suggestion box.”
“Fair warning, I could be biased.”
“Against pineapple?”
“It’s a migraine trigger for me, so I refer to it as painapple.” I’m trying not to laugh as it sucks for her, but the term is so stinking cute with the little frowny face to accompany it. When she winks, showing that she understands my dilemma, I go with a compromise and snicker.
“I’m sure if you add that testimony as a character witness, we’ll have no problem getting it to pass.”
“Are you two playing footsie in there…” Willis wants to know, then adds, “naked?”
“I’m going to kill him,” I mutter.
“He could be worse,” Lillian tries to soothe me. I arch a brow at her, not seeing how that’s possible. She shrugs, side eyes me, and says, “He could be Carlton.”
I crack up, wrap my arms around Lillian, and hold tight. When we separate, I gently grasp her chin, give her a quick kiss, and promise her, “To be continued.”
Chapter Five
Lillian
