Page 62 of Fractured Freedom

“They were more than nice, Lilah. I was cooped up with men for three to four months at a time overseas, and then when I was home, I got you in my car for twenty minutes here and there, smelling like strawberries and coconuts and sweet as hell.”

I wrinkled up my nose. “I didn’t smell.”

“You do. Best smell ever. Well, except for when I’ve got your legs spread—”

“Nope.” I cut him off and waved the fork in front of him. “Are you kidding right now?”

He chuckled and leaned back. “For someone who wants to have fun around the island, you’re being pretty uptight.”

“Can we just not?” I asked.

He shrugged and then frowned before he cleared his throat. “Joking aside, I’m sorry about the other night.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Me too. I just want to do what I came here to do and that’s it. So I’m sorry if it jeopardizes the safety of your mission or if I’m skewing your view of me or—”

“It’s fine, Lilah. I get it. You want to have fun.”

“It’s not just about fun,” I tried to explain as I pushed a piece of pineapple around on my plate. “I was so engrossed with getting straight A’s in high school. Then in college, when things… when I couldn’t, I didn’t know who I was. If I didn’t have perfect grades, I had nothing.”

He hummed and seemed to search my face, like he was cataloging my expression or something. Then he said, “Go on.”

“Well, there’s not much else to tell. I didn’t fit in without my brothers and sister around. I struggled to get good grades and…” I cleared my throat. “I was really depressed.” I met his gaze, waiting for the recoil or the pity or the shock. He stared back at me, accepting all my words without any judgment.

Then he said, “Would you like me to teach you self-defense?”

“What?” I sputtered. It was so off topic from what we were talking about that I was sure I’d heard him wrong.

“Self-defense.” He pointed his fork at me before he looked down at his food to stab a piece of it. “You’re small. You’ve probably walked around here at night alone. Every woman, unfortunately, will always have to deal with concerns for their well-being. I figure it’s good to equip you with some escape techniques in case you’re ever in a bad situation.”

“Did you hear anything I just said about college?”

“I did.” He shrugged like my confession was nothing. “Working out and building confidence in your body can help with depression too.”

“Aren’t you more concerned that I suffer from bouts of depression? I was practically depressed throughout all of college.” At first, I’d been waiting for him to react negatively, and now I was pissed he hadn’t reacted at all.

“Lilah, you were bound to suffer something with all the pressure you put on yourself. Now, we’ll figure out ways to deal with it. Self-defense and exercise should be a good start.”

“I was bound to…?” I trailed off. “Are you saying I did this to myself? I’ll have you know that ten percent of women who’ve lost a—” My mouth snapped shut as his eyes shot up and narrowed.

“Lost a what, Lilah?”

Shit.

* * *

The white tileon the seventh floor of this building was so white it made me wonder if it had ever needed a cleaning. So pure. So pristine. So damn sterile.

It mocked me as I sat there for my twelve-week appointment.

Such good grades. Such a solid life ahead of her. Such a damn disappointment she got pregnant.

I could hear my little town running wild with the accusations. I could picture my mother’s face, my father’s anger, and my brothers’ desire to seek revenge.

It was going to be hell. There wasn’t an easy way out.

I told myself I deserved my choice, that it was mine to make either way, and that I wasn’t going to let expectations of society creep in. I scrambled for that control even when my world was spiraling out of it.

I didn’t make any decision the first time I went to the doctor’s office. I heard the heartbeat. Fast, strong, and maybe a little rapid because it was scared just like me.

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