Page 77 of Healing Kiss

And so it continued, each house they visited both bigger and more expensive than the one before. With each stop, Lillian’s stomach squeezed tighter, her mouth grew dryer, and every sentence she rehearsed in her mind for the coming meeting with Tristan seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

Should she simply say, “Thank you?” The words didn’t seem grateful enough for the risk he’d taken to save her life. If she said, “Congratulations on your engagement,” it would be insincere since she certainly didn’t feel like celebrating the occasion. “I lied and am in love with you,” was much too direct.

“This is it,” Hannah said as they left the sixth house, a Frank Lloyd Wright–style ranch with a sunroom that seemed to bring the great outdoors inside. “Our last stop is Tristan’s. Are you ready?”

Lillian cleared her throat, but it didn’t seem to open her vocal cords. Maybe she was fretting for no reason? Maybe he wouldn’t even be at home? Not all the owners were present to show guests around. Maybe Tristan had better things to do tonight than entertaining a bunch of ordinary citizens like herself?

“Lillian?”

“Er…yes, I’m ready…or I will be by the time we get there.”

“It’ll be fine. I promise. Just be honest and speak from the heart. The rest will take care of itself.”

“What if…”

“He tells you to scram? He won’t. I told you he cares for you. Be courageous.”

Lillian hesitated. “Maybe I’m making a mistake? He’s engaged to be married. He’s obviously moved on.”

“Seeing him again will helpyoumove on. This is your chance to gain closure, remember? Telling him how you feel is the first stop on the road to recovery.”

Lillian sighed and tried to calm her racing heart. Her sister was right. No matter what Tristan’s reaction was to her arrival, what ultimately mattered was the chance for Lillian to talk to him one last time—to see for herself that he was happy with Angelina and moving forward with his life. Maybe then Lillian could move forward with hers.

“Are you ready?” Hannah asked a few minutes later when they pulled through the gate and into the familiar, long, winding driveway. They followed the signs, which pointed to a parking lot Tristan had on the grounds. A shuttle bus was parked there, and people were boarding it, probably to be driven to the house.

Lillian nodded, but she couldn’t stem her anxious thoughts. What was she doing here, tonight, invading Tristan’s home? Why did she think this visit would accomplish anything?

“Lil, you’ve got this.” Her sister must have sensed her fear and doubt because as soon as they parked and exited the car, she linked her arm with Lillian’s, and they walked together to the nearest shuttle bus.

The short walk felt a little like Lillian was being led to her doom.

“What’s the worst he could say?” Hannah asked when the silence between them stretched a little too long.

“Get lost?” Lillian offered.

Hannah smiled, and if Lillian weren’t so shaken up at the prospect of seeing Tristan again, she might have seen the humor in the situation and responded in kind. However, her brain had turned to mush, and her stomach was doing somersaults and backflips. Lillian was pretty certain the blood in her veins wasn’t circulating because her legs were so damn weak.

“Buckle up, buttercup. You’ve got this. Be brave.”

They were dropped off at the entrance to the house, where a lady with long dark hair and high cheekbones—a Cher lookalike—greeted everyone.

Not Angelina, thank God.Maybe Lillian had worried for no reason. Maybe Tristan wasn’t even home. Maybe he was on a hot date with his fiancée.

“My name is Jasmine, and I’ll be your tour guide this evening.”

Three months ago, Lillian had stepped into the same foyer, as nervous and fearful as she was tonight. Now, she gazed up at the same chandelier and noticed the same security camera pointed her direction. She had the insane desire to wave.

“Follow me,” Jasmine motioned.

The sisters trailed Jasmine into the same large room Tristan had held his fundraiser the night Lillian first met him. She looked around the room, but she didn’t see Tristan. There was no live band or waiters with food and liquor, either. There was no party in progress. Her heart sank, but she wasn’t sure if it was because the prospect of seeing him again had dimmed or because she had trouble dealing with the memories the room generated.

As Lillian and Hannah soon discovered, Jasmine was one of at least a dozen tour guides gathered with groups of twenty or thirty guests surrounding them. She beckoned to one corner of the room, and Lillian and Hannah followed along with the others in their circle.

Jasmine turned and flashed her entourage a welcoming smile. “Thanks for stopping by tonight and supporting our Parade of Homes, which raises money for scientific research. The tour should take approximately thirty minutes to complete, followed by a garden party for those who paid for that option. Before we get started, I’d like to remind you no pictures are permitted of the inside of the home to protect the privacy of the homeowner.”

Lillian, who had pulled out her cell, thinking to snap a photo for memory’s sake, shoved the device back in her purse.

Jasmine smiled and gestured around the room. “You are standing in the living room of the Hickory Farms estate, currently owned by software guru and local philanthropist Tristan King. The home has a long history, dating back to the 1920s. Located on over thirteen acres, as you will soon see, it includes twelve thousand, eight hundred square feet of living space, and is valued at two point nine million dollars.”

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