“I... Oh, my gosh,” she said as she watched scenes from her life pass before her mind’s eye. Looking different than they had before.
“I’ve been so selfish.” Dropping her hands to her sides, she fell to her chair. “All this time, I’ve been... I knew about Kate...knew how you felt about being not good enough...and I didn’t do anything to reassure you.”
“I didn’t expect you to.”
Of course he hadn’t. And that was the point. “Ever since Braydon...maybe even before that...maybe Kirk’s infidelity really was my fault....”
It was all making sickening sense. As she’d sat there, listening to Jon, feeling his struggle, she’d been taken wholly out of her own perspective. For the first time since, possibly, ever. Certainly since her parents had died. She’d been removed from herself because she loved Jon. Completely.
He’d become a part of her as much as her own soul—somehow tangling with her most intimate feelings until there was no clear separation between hers and his.
Somehow, Jon had found a way past all of the barriers she’d unknowingly erected—something Kirk had never been able to do.
Barriers that had been shored up by Kirk’s infidelity and Braydon’s tragic death.
She gave people what she wanted to give them, what made her feel good. She gave her time, her knowledge, her compassion.
But not her.
Jon had given her everything. Even that which he valued more than himself. He’d given her Abraham. “No one knew about the money, Jon. I didn’t want it. Didn’t ask for it. I came from a middle-class home and, believe me, we were far happier than Kirk and his family have been with all of their money. I don’t use the money. It’s in a trust. And the interest it collects is donated to the children’s heart foundation.”
His eyes flickered, but he didn’t speak. “I swear to you,” she said, taking his hand in both of hers and holding on. “I didn’t deliberately not tell you. I trust you, Jon.”
“Have you ever heard of Clara Abrams?”
“Abrams? Isn’t that Kate’s last name?”
“Yeah.”
“No. Should I have?”
“She didn’t hire you to check up on me?”
She dropped his hand. “Of course not.”
For the first time since he’d walked in the door, Jon smiled. A real smile. “I didn’t think so,” he said. And then, after he’d told her about Clara’s efforts to take Abraham from him, he added, “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”
This time he picked up her hand. Held it between both of his. And Lillie f
elt scared to death again.
But warm, too.
“Two strong people scared of what the future might bring,” he said softly.
And her world fell calmly into place. Tragedy happened sometimes over time and sometimes in an instant. And so did joy.
“I’m not afraid of the future anymore,” she told him. “Because it’s going to be me and you facing it together.”
“No, it’s not.”
She wasn’t wrong about this. “You asked me to marry you, Jon. I’m accepting.”
“That was before—”
“You don’t want to marry me anymore?” She didn’t believe that. Because she knew him.
“No.”