Page 84 of Silent Partner (Pine Falls 3)

That about summed it up.

“I know that’s how you feel,” she continued, “because that’s how I felt last year. It’s how I feel now because I’ve hurt you. It has killed me, knowing what I did not only to you but to my husband. And having to keep it a secret has been torture.”

Grandma held her closer. “How is Brock doing?” she asked the question I wanted to know. How did he deal with all of this so well? I would have never guessed he knew about it, by the way he behaved and doted on his wife.

Dani wiped her eyes. “Obviously, it was hard for him at the beginning. I wasn’t sure our marriage would make it, but,”—she looked at me with doe eyes—“he found a way to forgive both Brant and me. He knows Brant and I don’t love each other like that.” She was pleading with me to believe her.

“How do you love each other?” I struggled to ask, not wanting to know, all while needing to know.

“Like best friends forged in the very fires of hell. A hell we’ll keep burning in until we earn your forgiveness. Please tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness. I’ll do anything. Please,” she earnestly petitioned me.

I didn’t know what to say. My mom once told me a long time ago, when people would hurt my feelings or make fun of me, “Kinsley, don’t make people earn your forgiveness. Give it freely when you know you’ll never hold what they did to you over their heads.” For being so young and such a dreamer, she had been pretty smart. Even though I had been young, I’d always gotten the feeling she’d had to forgive some pretty big things in her life. I wished I knew what they were. More than that, I wished I knew how she’d done it. Because, honestly, I didn’t know how to forgive right now. Hurt consumed me, like those fires of hell Dani talked about. I needed an industrial-sized fire extinguisher to put out the flames. For now, though, I needed caffeine.

I spun out of Grandpa’s arms and gripped the counter, needing all the help I could get to stay standing.

“Who wants coffee?” I murmured.

It was all I had to offer at the moment.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I dug my feet into the frozen earth, covered in a fine layer of snow, and used the weight of my body to twist the wooden swing that Grandpa had hung in the old oak tree for Whitney and Gemma. Tiny snowflakes landed on my warm cheeks and instantly melted. They intermingled with the tears that I begged to stop falling yet still persisted.

I should have been at work, but I’d called in sick. It wasn’t a lie. Visions of Brant and Dani swirled in my head, making me grip the ropes tighter and tighter as I twisted and twisted until the tension was too much. All I had to do was lift my feet inches off the ground before I spun quickly back to my original starting point, facing the barren wheat fields behind my grandparents’ house. I took a moment to stare at the blanket of white in front of me. There was something so peaceful about it, but it only reminded me of Dani.

The first snowfall after we’d moved in with Grandma and Grandpa, I had slipped out to the backyard to make snow angels. It was something I had done with my parents dozens of times. I had longed to hear my mother’s voice telling me about how every time you made a snow angel, a real angel was made, and that angel would watch over you. I’d thought if I made two snow angels that day, my parents would become angels and be able to watch over me together. Dani had come out to see what I was doing. She’d stood above me and gave me a strange stare. She’d admitted that she had never made a snow angel before. I’d told her I would show her how. I could tell she thought it was silly, yet she’d lain down next to me. Together, we’d held hands and made angels. I’d told her that our guardian angels were now connected forever. For a long time, we’d just laid in the freezing snow, holding hands. Then Dani had whispered, “I’ll always watch over you, Kinsley.” She’d had no idea what comfort that had given me.

She had watched over me. Now she was breaking my heart. That hurt more than anything. She was the one person I could always count on to never injure me. But she had. And I knew that killed her. It was apparent. For that, I ached for her, but my own ache was greater. She’d slept with the man I love and had created a child with him.

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