Page 83 of The Killer Cupcake
"Hungry?" he asked, though his voice came out rougher than intended.
"No, no, no, I shouldn't have come." She turned for the door, but he caught her hand gently, like he was afraid she might shatter. That small touch undid her. Kathy burst into tears and collapsed against him, and suddenly they were back to being eighteen when she'd cry about missing Carmelo and he'd hold her, pretending it didn't kill him to comfort her about another man.
Right there in Lea's carefully kept kitchen, between the covered pots and embroidered towels, she told him everything. Two years of sneaking around to see Carmelo. The lies she'd told Big Mama. The risks she'd taken. How hope kept her going even when she knew better.
By the time she got to the part about Carmelo coming to Butts, about him forcing her into that barn, they'd moved to the sofa. Ely was on his feet, pacing.
"He put his hands on you?" His voice was dangerous now.
"He was desperate. Said he'd die without me. Said I was killing him." She wiped her eyes. "Then he grabbed me, pushed me against the door.”
Ely's fists clenched. The gentle man who'd never raised his hand to anyone was gone, replaced by someone she didn't recognize.
"Ely, stop." Her voice was weary. "I don't need this from you. Please. I came to you because you're not like them."
That stopped him cold. He studied her—really looked at her for the first time. Thinner than before, shadows under her eyes, hands protective over her stomach though nothing showed yet.
"What else?" He sat down beside her, his voice gentle again. "I know he hurt you, broke your heart. But I know you, Kathy. You aren't afraid of him. And no matter how much I want to kill him right now, he isn't going to hurt you physically. So there's something else. You said you were out of time. You came here to me. You need help, not protection. What aren't you telling me?"
She lowered her gaze to the floor, hands twisting in her lap. The silence stretched between them, heavy with what she couldn't say.
"You're pregnant, aren't you?"
She put her hands to her face and cried—not the tears from before, but deep, terrified sobs that came from her soul.
"Does he know?" Ely asked quietly. "Does anyone know?"
She shook her head, unable to speak.
He pulled her back into his arms and let her cry it all out—the fear, the shame, the desperation of a woman with no good choices left. When her sobs finally quieted, he held her a moment longer, breathing in the scent of her hair, knowing everything was about to change.
"It's okay, baby," he said finally. "I'll protect you."
"How?" Her voice was muffled against his chest.
"I'll marry you. Fast as we can manage it."
She pulled back to look at him, “Ely, I can't ask you to give up Lea?—"
"Don't play with me, Kathy.” His voice was rough. "You knew what I'd say when you climbed those porch steps. You know I love you. Only ever you."
"You knew I'd come to you,” she said.
“I’ve been waiting," he admitted. "Maybe not for this, but... I could’ve married Lea some time ago. I’ve been waiting."
She nodded. "I'm out of time. I can't do it anymore—the lies, the shame. I'm scared for this baby, for my family. You warned me, and I didn't heed your warning. I chose this path becauseeveryone else is choosing it. Debbie went to José. Willa went to Janey and Carmine. No one is walking in truth, and innocent babies are being born in the crossfire.”
“I don’t understand what happened to Willa. I saw what happened to Debbie. I’m not going to let it happen to you. If you're my wife, this baby is mine. And you're mine." The words were a vow.
She nodded slowly.
“I know what being a wife to you means. And I will be, Ely. I swear. I will be yours, only yours. If we do this, Carmelo Ricci does not exist.”
The weight of what she was promising, what she was asking him to sacrifice, sat heavily between them. Kathy had never kissed a man other than Carmelo. Never let another man hold her the way Ely was holding her now. Her heart hammered with uncertainty, guilt, and desperate gratitude. But she was out of options, and Ely... Ely had always been her safe place.
She reached up slowly, touching at first his lips, then his jaw. He went still, barely breathing, as she drew him down. The kiss was nothing like the passion she'd known with Carmelo. This was quieter, sadder, tasting of tears and sacrifice and the death of dreams. But underneath, she felt Ely's years of patient love, his joy at finally having even this broken version of what he'd wanted.
When the kiss ended, something fundamental had shifted. She wasn't a dreamer anymore. She was a woman who understood exactly what this bargain would cost them both—Ely giving up a woman who loved him and truly, her giving up the last hope that somehow she and Carmelo could find their way.
