Page 87 of Somebody's Watching Me
“Where should we start? The suicide notes? Therapy sessions?” Bracing his hands on the edge of the counter, he kept his back to her. “I know. Why don’t we tackle that little comment he slid in there about your honesty track record with me being shitty?”
The chicken and pasta threatened to return, and not knowing what else to do, she wrapped her arms around his waist, placing all her weight against his back.
Leaning on him for strength, as she always did.
“I’m scared.”
Her confession chipped away at his anger, breaking it down into nothing. “I would never let anything happen. To say I would lay down my life to protect you is an understatement, and you damn well know it.”
“Stop talking like that.” Squeezing him until he wheezed, she closed her eyes. “I’ll go along with whatever you think is best, but you have to tell me first. Don’t surprise me. I can’t handle it.”
“Of course, you can handle it. You’re Jamison fucking Fairweather, and you can handle anything.” He shifted around to hug her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But if I see an opportunity, I’m going to take it. I’m expected to trust you, then you need to do the same in turn.”
“I’ll think about it.”
They loaded the dishwasher so Simone wouldn’t fuss in the morning, and he sent a few more texts while she blew out the candle.
“Any news?”
Liam froze in his typing and put the phone away. “Nothing. Are you ready?”
They stepped out onto the patio, the two cops sitting at the table jarring Jamison out of the peacefulness their intimate dinner had created. Another uniformed man stood further back, wearing a jacket with the Fairweather Holdings’ logo on it, and holding a cigarette loosely betweenhis lips. The cigarette dropped to the ground when he spotted Liam setting the alarm.
The system beeped, ready and fully armed. Liam took her hand and nodded at the men. “See you in the morning.”
Crossing the lawn in silence, Jamison counted the security cameras mounted on various trees. Each came to life when they passed, tracking them as they walked to the cottages. The first batch had been installed after Toby, and it seemed every year more and more were added.
The five cottages along the bayou remained dark ahead, except the one Liam was using. She guessed Rowan was staying in the storage cottage to the right. It held a single twin bed and hopefully he fit on it.
Liam paused on the far side of the Marriage Oak and gazed up at the Spanish moss dangling overhead from the branches. “Maybe we should have planned a wedding here. I can see the appeal.”
“No, I want the beach.”
“Wanted.” Exhaling his disappointment, he continued to watch the branches sway in the night breeze. “Youwantedto marry me on the beach.”
She let go of his hand, and he allowed it. “I’m tired.”
“Jamison—”
“Don’t.” She stumbled on an exposed root as she retreated.
He dropped his duffle, rushing forward to catch her, but was shoved away.
“Just don’t. This is hard enough with everything happening,” she rambled, not knowing how or where to begin with what she wanted to say. “I’m scared. I don’t know what to do or what questions to ask.”
With nowhere to run, she placed her back against the tree, and gathered her wits. After having dinner and relaxing with him, she’d let her guard down. “And then you’re here.”
“Yep, I’m here.” He crowded her, trapping her so soundly she couldn’t possibly get away. “Waiting for you to stop with the bullshit.”
Every organ in her body trembled when his head dipped. All she had to do was lift onto her toes and their mouths would meet. She wanted it. Without a doubt, she wanted it and could almost hear her soul begging. Screaming for her to let him come home.
“I love you down to the very thing that makes me who I am.” His deep voice shook as he spoke, breaking her heart a little more. Taking her face in his hands, he pressed their foreheads together. “Just tell me why. Why did you do it? When did I stop being enough? When did we stop being enough?”
Her eyes fluttered closed, unable to hold his gaze. Standing with him under this tree where so many had taken their vows, she gave up. “You’re more than enough.”
He needed to know the truth. To walk with her in the pain.
“You’re everything.” The love she had for him sang in her soul, obliterating all the other pointless crap. The fear and frustration. The disappointment and the pain. These last few months had been a self-imposed hell, worse than anything she could have ever imagined. A torturous existence neither deserved. “I’m so sorry.”
