Page 66 of Nine Months to Love
“Twenty-four. Six years of preparation. And for everyone one of those six years, I stayed awake at night planning.Planning,Olivia, for what I’d do when I was ready to come home.” I close my eyes, remembering. “I knew their routines. When they went to the cabin. How long they stayed. The cabin was perfect—isolated, wooden, single exit, no one around to hear the screams. I waited until I knew they were both inside. Then I barred the doors from the outside and set it ablaze.”
Olivia’s breathing has gone shallow.
“I watched it burn, Olivia. Stood in the trees and watched the whole thing go up. Heard the screams. Smelled the smoke. When it was over, when the fire department finally arrived, there was nothing left but charred bones and ash. And my mother’s ring, still gleaming on the burnt finger of her corpse.
“But if she’s alive...”
I nod as she comes to the same conclusion I have. “Then the body I buried wasn’t hers.” I open my eyes and meet Olivia’s horrified gaze. “I’ve been thinking about it. There’s a short window where I looked away. I was checking my phone, making sure my alibi was solid. When I looked back, the cabin was already burning. What if, in that window, my mother left and someone else entered?”
“Who?”
“I don’t know,” I say quietly. “That’s the problem.”
“That’s... that’s horrible.” Olivia stares at me, and I can see her wrestling with the reality of what this means. Eventually, she picks up the croissant again and takes a small nibble. “What will you do if you find her? Your mother?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you kill her?”
“I swore to you I wouldn’t.”
“But do you want to?”
I consider the question. “Part of me does. But another part...” I trail off.
“What?”
“Another part wants to knowwhy. Why she betrayed him. Why she let me think she was dead. Why she’s back now.”
“Maybe she wants to meet her grandchild.”
The thought makes my blood run cold. “She’ll never get near our child.”
“Ourchild.” Olivia’s hand goes to her stomach. “God, Stefan. What are we doing? Bringing a baby into this?”
“We’re giving them what neither of us had. A family. Protection. Love.”
“Love,” she repeats softly. “Is that what this is?”
I meet her eyes. “You tell me.”
22
OLIVIA
Love.
Is that what this is?
I watch Stefan’s face, waiting for him to answer my question. But he just looks at me with those impossible eyes and says nothing.
I set down the croissant. “I need to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Your father. What was their marriage like? His and your mother’s?”
Stefan’s jaw clenches. “Why?”
