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I start crying again before he ends his conversation.
It’s not long before he comes back and lowers himself to the couch beside me. He leans against the back and pulls me to him, wrapping both arms around me.
I sprawl against his chest, halfway on his lap, and I cry some more. He holds me tight, murmuring out rough assurances. About how it’s going to be all right. He’s got me. He’s going to keep me safe. I can trust him. He won’t let me down.
Everything I need to hear. Everything I’ve been desperate to hear for so long.
And never have. Not once in my life.
When I’ve cried myself out, I stay reclining limply against him. He’s loosened his arms now and is gently stroking my hair and my back.
Finally he murmurs thickly, “Is this why you… you came to me?”
“Yes. I needed… I just needed to feel safe. I’m so sorry. I… I used you. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I understand. I’m glad to know. I never understood…” He makes a weird sound in his throat. “I never understood it, but this makes everything clear.”
He sounds so relieved. Almost overcome. Like it’s the answer he’s been waiting for forever. And it breaks my heart because he’s wrong.
Everything still isn’t clear to him.
He doesn’t know all there is to know.
I have to tell him. I was about to back in the park. I’m sure I would have actually gotten it said this time had Montaigne not shown up right at the worst moment.
Fate. It feels like fate.
I try to collect my former momentum and drive to tell the truth, but I can barely lift my head, much less give my final confession.
The one that will take everything that matters away from me.
But it’s wrong. It’s selfish. It’s thinking of myself rather than William.
And I love him. More than I’ve ever loved myself.
I might not be able to say everything right now, but I can say something. The first step to the truth coming out.
So I make myself say it.
“You can…” I choke. Literally choke. I have to sit up and cough until tears stream out of my eyes.
He pats my back and waits until I’m able to speak again.
“You can tell your security guys the stalker’s name is…”
I don’t pause on purpose, but I almost get choked again. William has stiffened, leaning forward, like he’s poised on the edge of a cliff.
“Vince Montaigne.”
Maybe it doesn’t seem like much of a confession, but I know what will happen afterward. He’ll give the name to his security. They’ll investigate. Get background information and photographs. They’ll learn he’s from Houston and has lived there all his life.
Amber has never lived in Houston.
It won’t make sense. But William will remember Detective Curtis, the police detective from Houston who was looking for Amber’s twin sister, Jade.
It won’t take him long to put the pieces together.
The truth might as well be out right now.
