Page 65 of Promise Me This
27
Kia
I stand in the living room, all too aware of how the ground just shifted beneath my feet.
The grandparents.
Laiken’s steady voice.
Elody’s hopeful plea that wrapped itself around my heart, refusing to let go.
Marrying a man I barely know is crazy.
But then again, so is walking away.
I tell myself to think about this logically. I’d have stability. Insurance. A roof over my head, and a plan I can point to when my thoughts inevitably spiral at three in the morning.
This would give Laiken something his ex-in-laws can’t tear apart in a courtroom.
In a way, it makes perfect sense.
And that’s the problem. Because perfect sense has never protected my heart in the past. My chest tightens at the thought of leaving this place behind.
Of leaving Elody.
Of leaving him.
Maybe I haven’t been in Elody’s life for long, but the little girl has already carved out a space in my heart I wasn’t prepared for. It’s the way her small hands grab mine, as if she already trusts me without question, and the way her laughter fills the room, making the world feel so much lighter.
And then there’s Laiken…
He looks at me like he sees more than the mess I’m desperately trying to find my way out of. More than a complication. I could survive without him. The truth that I don’t want to is more difficult to admit.
“Kia?”
His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
I meet his gaze, searching for any hesitation or a shred of doubt. Something that would confirm this is yet another mistake on my part. Instead, I find him watching me with a quiet intensity that robs the air from my lungs.
His eyes have grown darker, becoming more focused. “Well? Will you marry me?”
Even though I remain silent, the answer is there, just waiting to be set free. Once I say it out loud, there’s no turning back.
With a swallow, I nod. “Yes.”
His brows lift as disbelief floods his features. “Really? You’ll do it?”
This time, my nod is firmer. “Yes.” I force myself to keep going before I lose my nerve. “You’re right. I think this could be a beneficial arrangement for both of us.”
A slow exhale leaves him. It’s like he’s been holding his breath since the moment he blurted out that we’re getting married.
“When?” he asks.
He tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear, his knuckles grazing my skin with a tenderness that doesn’t match the word arrangement.
“I’ll call my lawyer,” he says, his voice turning businesslike. “And start the process.”
He steps back, and the distance that separates us now feels wrong. Necessary but still wrong.
