5. Sabrina
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Sabrina
I went to the kitchen because the dishes needed doing and I needed my hands to have something to do that wasn’t shaking.
Josie followed me in after a little while, her face stricken with guilt. She picked up a towel without asking and stationed herself at the drying rack while I filled the sink with hot water.
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice was small. “I genuinely thought you knew. Everyone on the island knows about Killian and Cordelia. It was this huge thing when they were together. She was always at the club, always at the parties, always talking about their future like it was a done deal. And then he met you and everything changed.”
“Everything changed.” I scrubbed at a pot that didn’t need scrubbing. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I would never have brought it up if I’d known.”
“I know. It’s not your fault.”
“You’re furious.”
“I’m not furious at you.”
Josie was quiet for a moment. She dried a plate with meticulous care, turning it over and over in her hands.
“You’re furious at him.”
I didn’t answer. The tap was still running hot enough to turn my hands red. I didn’t care.
“Sabrina, whatever’s going on between you and Killian, it’s obvious you’re not okay. I’m not trying to pry, but I can see it. You look like you’re barely holding it together.”
“I’m holding it together just fine.”
“You’re white-knuckling a pot like it personally offended you.”
I looked down at my hands. She was right. My grip on the pot was so tight my knuckles had gone pale.
I set it down and took a breath.
“Things have been hard,” I said carefully. “Killian works too much. I’m tired all the time. We’re not communicating well. It’s marriage stuff. Normal marriage stuff.”
“That doesn’t sound normal.”
“It’s as normal as anything else in this family.”
Josie set down her towel and moved closer. Her hand found my arm, gentle and warm.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I’m not going to push. But I want you to know that I’m here. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. Even if it’s just someone to sit with while you process things.”
My eyes burned. I blinked rapidly and turned back to the sink.
“Thanks, Josie. I appreciate that.”
“Do you want me to go out there and pour wine on Cordelia if I see her again?”
I laughed despite myself. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Are you sure? I’m very good at fake accidents. Years of practice.”
“I’m sure.”
She squeezed my arm one more time and stepped back. “I should probably go apologize to Bridget for ruining her tablecloth. And maybe check on Killian. He looked pretty freaked out when you left.”
“Good.”
Josie hesitated. “You know he loves you, right? Whatever else is going on, however badly he’s screwing up, the man is completely devoted to you. I’ve known him my whole life, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. I just nodded and turned back to the dishes.
After she left, I finished washing everything in sight.
I dried my hands on a towel and stood at the window for a moment, looking out at the dark yard and the lights of the neighboring houses.
The night was warm and thick with the smell of summer, and somewhere in the distance I could hear the faint sound of music from one of the parties that were always happening on this island.
I needed to find Killian. I needed to tell him about the baby. Whatever else was wrong between us, he deserved to know that we’d made a life together, one that was growing inside me right now, one that might give us a reason to fight for this marriage instead of watching it crumble.
Tonight I was going to tell him. I was going to say the words, and then we were going to figure out how to move forward, together, the way we used to.
I pushed open the back door and stepped out into the warm night air. The patio was empty, but I could see lights in the small garden beyond it, and I could hear voices. Male voices. Killian and Sully.
I practiced the words in my head as I crossed the grass. I’m pregnant. I should have told you sooner. I was scared.
Their voices got clearer as I approached.
The garden had a small gate covered in climbing roses, and it was open just a crack.
I could see them through the gap, sitting on the stone bench near the fountain.
Killian was hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.
Sully was next to him, one hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“I don’t know what to do.” Killian’s voice was raw. “She looks at me like I’m a stranger. Like she’s waiting for me to disappoint her.”
“Maybe because you keep disappointing her,” Sully said, not unkindly.
“I know. I know I do. But it’s not on purpose. I get caught up in things, and then time passes, and suddenly I’ve missed another dinner, another bedtime, another conversation we should have had. And every time I promise to do better, and every time I fail.”
“Have you thought about actually doing something different instead of just promising?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, man. Therapy? Cutting back on work? Actually showing up when you say you will?”
Killian lifted his head. From this angle, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the exhaustion in the set of his jaw.
“She’s different now,” he said quietly. “Ever since the miscarriage. She used to be so full of fire, you know? She’d argue with me about everything. She’d laugh at my terrible jokes and then insult me for telling them. She was brilliant and sharp and she didn’t take any of my bullshit.”
My hand found the gate. My fingers curled around the iron.
“Now she’s just quiet. She goes through the motions, but she’s not there anymore. Not really. It’s like watching a light dim, and I don’t know how to turn it back on.”
“Maybe she’s just tired,” Sully offered. “Raising a kid is exhausting.”
“It’s more than that.” Killian let the silence stretch. “Sometimes I wonder if she’d still have her fire if she’d never said yes to me.”
My stomach dropped.
“Maybe I never should have married her,” Killian said.
The words landed and the ground tilted. I stumbled back from the gate, my vision blurring.
He regretted it. He regretted marrying me. All this time I’d been telling myself that we could fix this, that we could find our way back to each other, and he’d been wishing he’d never proposed in the first place.
I pushed the gate open. It swung wide and hit the fence with a clang that made both men jump.
Killian’s head whipped around. His face went white when he saw me.
“Sabrina-”
“You regret marrying me?”
He stood up so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. “No. No, that’s not what I meant, you didn’t hear the whole-”
“I heard enough.”
“Please, let me explain. I was telling Sully that I’ve been a terrible husband and I don’t deserve-”
“You don’t deserve me?” My voice cracked. “Is that what you were going to say? That you don’t deserve me, but somehow it sounds like you don’t want me either?”
“I want you.” He took a step toward me. “That’s the problem. I’m terrified I’m destroying everything we have.”
“Then stop destroying it!”
“I don’t know how!”
We were both yelling now. Behind Killian, Sully had risen from the bench, his face a mask of horror.
“Oh shit,” he muttered.
“You think I’d be happier without you.” The tears came whether I wanted them or not, hot and angry and unstoppable. “Is that how little you think of us? Of what we built together?”
“I think I’ve failed you.” Killian’s voice broke. “I think I’ve let you down over and over again, and somewhere along the way you stopped expecting anything from me at all. And that kills me, Sabrina. It kills me to watch you give up on me.”
“I haven’t given up on you. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve been waiting for you to show up, to be present, to act like this family matters as much as your work. And you keep choosing the work.”
“I’m not choosing the work over you.”
“Then what are you doing? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve already made your choice. And it wasn’t me.”
Killian reached for me. His hand brushed my arm.
I stepped back.
“Don’t.”
“Sabrina, please. Let me fix this. Write it down for me and I’ll follow it to the letter.”
“I don’t want instructions.” I dragged my sleeve across my eyes. “I want a husband who wants to be here. And apparently that’s too much to ask.”
I turned and walked back toward the house. Behind me, I heard Killian start to follow.
“Stay here,” I said without looking back. “Don’t follow me.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get our daughter. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving where? It’s late, just stay here and we can talk about this in the morning.”
“I don’t want to talk about it in the morning. I don’t want to talk about it at all.”
I went inside and took the stairs fast. Ivy was asleep in the guest room, curled up with her elephant blanket. I scooped her up as gently as I could, and she made a small noise of protest before settling against my shoulder.
Tessa appeared in the doorway.
“What’s going on? What happened?”
“Ask your brother.”
“Sabrina, wait-”
“I can’t wait. I can’t be here right now.” I pushed past her and headed for the stairs. “Tell your parents I’m sorry for leaving. Tell them I’ll call them tomorrow.”
Killian was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. His face was a mess of desperation and fear.
“Please don’t go. Please just stay and let me explain.”
I shifted Ivy’s weight and looked at him, and for a moment I saw the man I’d married. The man who’d told me I was the smartest person he’d ever met, who’d learned to cook my favorite meal just to surprise me, who’d held me through the worst night of my life when we lost the baby.
That man was still in there somewhere. But I couldn’t find him anymore.
“Don’t follow me,” I said. “I mean it, Killian. Give me space.”
I walked out the front door and strapped Ivy into her car seat. She didn’t wake up. She was used to being moved in her sleep, a skill she’d developed during all those nights when I was the only one home to carry her to bed.
The engine turned over on the second try. In the rearview mirror, Killian was still standing in the doorway, watching me go.
I drove away without looking back.