Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Back at the house, I spot Simon in the pool and break away from the girls to go meet him.
He bounds up out of the water like a dolphin—my water-obsessed boy—and I grin at him broadly, drinking in the scent of chlorine in the air and the droplets of water on his skin.
He meets me at the edge of the pool, where I squat down, balancing in a crouched position to press a kiss to his lips.
My heart hammers too loudly, betraying me.
“How was breakfast?”
“Oh, you know.” I give him a noncommittal look. “How was your morning?”
He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “That bad, huh?”
“No. It wasn’t.” I stand, my legs aching, and move to sit on the end of a lounge chair, still just a few feet from him. Every breath feels loud, every sentence a reminder of how exposed we are in this quiet space. “Your mom brought up the name thing again.”
He looks away, perhaps checking that we’re alone, eyes scaling the wall of the house. “You know it doesn’t matter to me. But it’s always going to be important to her.”
“I know.” My hands come together in my lap, and I wrap my fingers around my wrist, lifting and twisting it near my chest. A tremor runs through my core, subtle but undeniable, betraying the calm mask I’ve held onto for hours.
“Anyway, it was fine other than that. Mostly wedding talk. The dresses arrived this morning from their final alterations, so we’re going to try them on later.
” My eyes return to his. “I told her about my job.”
He jerks his head to the side, coaxing water from one ear, then the other. “How did that go?”
“Fine, I guess. She offered me a job at Morning Capital.” I give a quick, playful eyebrow raise, and he throws his head back with a laugh.
“Which, of course, would mean we’d need to move closer to home,” he points out.
I shake my head at him slowly, teasing. “I’m sure she hadn’t even thought of that.”
His lips twist, fighting a smile. “So, what’d you say?”
I think back, looking upward. “Uh…actually, I don’t think I said anything. She quickly switched from that conversation to the name thing and then Marlie came in for the rescue.”
“Remind me to send an extra bottle of champagne to their honeymoon suite,” Simon says, running a hand down his face. He watches me. “You okay?”
I puff out a quick breath, sitting straighter. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Just…two tough subjects, you know?”
“I should’ve gone with you guys.”
“No. No, of course not. No. I can handle your mom. It’s fine.
It was fine. I’m just venting.” I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
“Hey, quick, totally normal change of subject here, but the other night, Marlie was telling me more about the gardener who died at the guest house. Do you…remember it? I mean, that seems really traumatic to have experienced when you were so young.”
He dunks himself underwater briefly, coming back up and swiping a hand across his unreadable features. Sometimes he looks so much like his father it’s wild. “I don’t… I mean, it just wasn’t that big of a deal, I guess.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I admit. “You’re clearly uncomfortable talking about it, even now.”
His blank expression melts into something warm. A smile tips his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, not completely, and I feel the ghost of whatever he’s holding back. “Do we need to turn this into a therapy session?”
I pin him with a glare. “I’m just worried about you. I hate that you never told me about this big, intense thing you went through.”
With a breath, he pushes up out of the water, thick arms locked as he hoists himself out of the pool.
Water drips down his body from every inch of his skin as he crosses the small space between us and takes a seat in the chair next to mine.
He leans forward over his knees. “It wasn’t that I meant to keep it from you.
It’s not comfortable to talk about, sure, but it’s more that I really don’t think about it anymore.
It was sad. Terrible. But, like, I was…what…
fifteen at the time? Sixteen? I also thought acne was terrible. ”
I purse my lips and pat his cheek. “Like you ever had acne. I’ve seen your high school photos, you forget.”
He smirks. “There was a point in time when I did, I’ll have you know.”
“You poor soul.” The joke settles between us, warming any bit of ice remaining.
“It just didn’t matter.” He winces. “Not in my small world, you know?”
His cold words sting like a scrape to the skin, but in a strange way, I suppose I do know what he means.
Childhood, and particularly the teenage years, can be so all-encompassing.
The most selfish versions of ourselves take so much claim over those years that, looking back, it often feels like a fever dream.
I’ve never met anyone who is proud of who they were as a teenager.
Still, I suspect Simon is hiding something, putting on a brave face when he doesn’t need to.
“Do you…remember how it happened?”
He clears his throat, looking down. “You know, it’s strange.
For the longest time, I thought I’d heard that he had a heart attack.
But now everyone says it was a fall.” He shrugs.
“Maybe a heart attack caused his fall? I wish I could tell you more, I really do. I wasn’t around when it happened, and it wasn’t exactly my parents’ favorite subject, as you can imagine.
I just overheard bits and pieces of it from the staff. ”
I draw in a slow breath. It makes sense.
Simon has never been the prying type. Last year, I had to drill him with questions when we found out his best friend was going through a divorce.
He didn’t even bother to ask what happened until I prompted him.
I honestly don’t believe it occurred to him to wonder.
I don’t think he’s lying to me, even if he is avoiding the subject.
“If it’s bothering you working down there, I promise I’m fine to switch.”
I smile and pat his arm. “It’s not that. You know me, I’m just…curious.” Then I recall one other piece of the puzzle. Something I haven’t told anyone yet. “Marlie also said he had a daughter. Named…Lia?”
He pauses mid-inhale. Chills trace across his skin, and I suspect they’re not just from the breeze. “Lia.” He repeats the name slowly, as if it’s foreign to him.
I nod, my lips curled inward.
“I…yeah. I remember her, obviously. She was around. Marlie told you about her?” His eyes search mine, his expression a hieroglyph I can’t quite decipher.
My brows draw together on instinct. “She mentioned she lived here, that they were similar ages.”
“Right. Yeah.” His words come slowly, as if he’s reading them from a page deep in his mind.
I blink. “Do you know what happened to her after he died?”
His face pales several shades. “Oh. Uh. Nothing, as far as I know. She went to live with her grandparents, I guess. Or some other relative. Mom and Dad packed up their stuff and sent it away.”
The words he’s saying swirl through my mind; the reality he’s painting a messy canvas I can’t make sense of.
Each sentence feels sharp, like shards of glass slicing my skin.
“And it was just Lia? He didn’t have any other daughters?
” Regardless, they couldn’t be the girl on the radio.
The girl I’m speaking to sounds young. It’s been nearly two decades since Pat died.
He flicks a quick glance my way before returning his gaze to his clasped hands. “No. It was just her.”
A new suspicion takes root in my mind, watching the scarlet patches bloom on his neck. “You were sixteen, and she was…a year older than Marlie, she said. So, like, thirteen?”
He doesn’t meet my eyes as he nods. “Something like that, yeah.” The scarlet spreads, painting his cheeks in splotches—ink dripped on a page. I want to reach out and wipe it away, though this pain, this…whatever this is, it isn’t mine to touch.
I blink, then swallow. “You’ve never mentioned her.”
He pats his legs in one swift motion, puffing out a breath like he’s ready to move on. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”
I force a smile, one that will convince him everything’s okay, even when every molecule in my body swears it isn’t. I stretch my hand out, patting his knee. “Just promise me you’re okay?”
“I’m better than okay.” Relief washes over his face before the warmth takes hold, and he leans forward, pressing another kiss against my lips.
I don’t say a word when he pulls away. I can’t. Instead, I stand and head for the house, my body as cold as if he just pushed me into the pool.