40. Kane
KANE
I arrive at the bakery around five.
The place is packed. Not with customers, but with people Delilah chose. Priya and Zara are setting out plates. Niko's arguing with Anton about whether the turkey needs another ten minutes. Yuri and Stepan are hauling chairs from the back.
Delilah's in the middle of it all, directing traffic with a wooden spoon.
She sees me and her whole face lights up.
"You're here," she says.
"I'm here."
She crosses the room and kisses me. Right there. In front of everyone.
When she pulls back, she's smiling. "Come on. I need you to taste something."
She drags me to the counter, where a dozen different dishes are laid out. She hands me a fork and points to a casserole.
"Try that."
I take a bite. "It's good."
"Just good?"
"It's great."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
She narrows her eyes. "You don't even know what it is."
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
I take another bite. "It's delicious. I promise."
She grins and kisses me again. Then she's pulled away by Priya, who needs help with the cranberry sauce.
I watch her go, feeling something settle in my chest.
This is what I wanted. Not the corridor or the properties.
This.
Lilah, surrounded by people who actually care about her. Building something that's hers. Laughing and teasing and directing traffic like she was born to do it.
Niko appears beside me. "You look like an idiot."
"Thanks."
"I mean it. You're standing there staring at her like you've never seen a woman before."
"Shut up."
He smirks. "You're in deep."
"I know."
"Does she?"
I look at him. "Yeah. She knows."
He studies me for a moment. Then he claps me on the shoulder. "Good."
Anton calls for help with the turkey, and Niko heads over. I stay where I am, watching Delilah laugh at something Zara said.
Mom would have loved her.
The thought comes out of nowhere, sudden and sharp.
My mother, who spent her whole life making food for people who barely looked at her. Who worked herself to exhaustion and never got a seat at the table.
She would have loved Delilah. The way she feeds people. How she fights for what's hers.
How she refuses to settle.
"Hello?" Lilah pokes her head into my field of vision. "You're awfully quiet. Penny for your thoughts?"
"You want to know what I'm thinking?"
"Yeah. If it's not classified or whatever."
I feel my lips quirk. "I'm thinking that my mother would have loved you."
Her eyes go soft. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. She would have loved watching you work. Seeing what you built here."
Lilah's face lights up and fills with a quiet, gentle sadness at the same time. "I wish I could have met her."
"Me too."
She touches my face. "Thank you for telling me that."
I kiss her forehead. Then I let her go, because Priya's calling for her again.
We eat at seven.
The table's too small for everyone, so we end up in the front room with plates balanced on laps and chairs pulled from every corner of the bakery.
Delilah sits beside me, her knee pressed against mine.
Niko makes a toast. Something about family and chosen people and being grateful for the people who show up.
Lilah squeezes my hand.
We eat and talk and laugh, and for the first time in weeks, I don't think about Vetrov. Or the corridor. Or the report sitting in my email.
I just think about this. About Delilah beside me, happy and relaxed and just where she wants to be.
After dinner, Priya and Zara start clearing plates. Delilah tries to help, but I pull her back down.
"Let them," I say.
"But—"
"You spent all day cooking. Let someone else clean up."
She hesitates. Then she nods and leans into me.
We sit there for a while, just watching everyone move around the room.
Eventually, people start leaving. Niko and Yuri. Stepan and Anton. Priya and Zara hug Delilah on their way out, and Priya wishes her luck for tomorrow at Leanne's.
By nine, it's just the two of us.
Delilah locks the front door and turns to me. "You want to come upstairs?"
"Yeah."
She takes my hand and leads me to the back staircase.
The apartment still smells like fresh paint. The furniture's minimal. A couch, a table, a bed.
But it's hers.
She crosses to the bedroom and points to the nightstand. "I got a second lamp."
I look at it. A simple brass fixture with a white shade.
"It matches the other one," I say.
"Yeah. I figured if you're going to stay over, you should have your own light."
She opens the top drawer. It's empty except for a folded T-shirt and a pair of boxers.
"I cleared this for you," she says. "In case you want to leave some clothes here."
I stare at the drawer.
"You don't have to," she adds quickly. "I just thought—if you're here a lot, it might be easier."
I cross to her and pull her close. "You're giving me a drawer."
"Is that okay?"
"Yeah. It's more than okay."
She smiles. "Good. Because I want this to feel normal. You being here. Even when I have an early class. Or when you have work that keeps you away."
I tilt her chin up. "You know how much I want that?"
"Tell me."
"I want it so much I don't know what to do with it. I want to wake up here. Make coffee in your kitchen. Leave my shit in your drawer and know it'll still be there when I come back."
Her eyes go soft. "I want that too."
"You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"
"No. I want it. All of it. And I'm not going to pretend this is temporary when it's not."
I kiss her. Hard. Desperate.
She kisses me back, her hands sliding under my shirt.
I walk her backward to the bed, pulling off her sweater and tossing it aside. She unbuttons my shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons.
We fall onto the mattress together.
I pin her wrists above her head and kiss down her neck. She arches into me, gasping.
"Kane."
"Yeah?"
"Don't stop."
I don't.
I strip off her jeans and underwear, then settle between her thighs.
She's already wet.
I taste her slowly. Long, deep strokes that make her hips lift off the bed.
"Kane," she gasps. "Please."
I pin her thighs wider and focus on her clit, circling it with my tongue until she's trembling.
She's so fucking beautiful like this. Hair spread across the pillow. Skin flushed. Hands fisted in the sheets because I won't let her touch me yet.
I slip two fingers inside her and she cries out, her body clenching around me.
"More," she begs. "Please, I need—"
I already know what she needs.
I curl my fingers and press harder with my tongue, finding the rhythm that makes her shake.
She tastes sweet. Perfect. Like everything I never thought I'd get to have.
Her breathing goes ragged. Her thighs tense against my shoulders.
I don't stop. Don't slow down.
Because this is mine. She's mine.
And I'll never take it for granted.
"Kane—" Her voice breaks. "I'm—"
She comes hard, her whole body arching off the bed.
I work her through it, easing her down until she's boneless and gasping.
Then I crawl back up her body and kiss her. She tastes like need and trust and everything I've ever wanted.
"I love you," I groan against her mouth.
"I love you too."
I strip off the rest of my clothes and settle between her legs.
She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down.
I enter her slowly, watching her face. The way her lips part. The way her eyes flutter closed.
"Look at me," I say.
She does.
I pick up the pace, our eyes locked.
It doesn't take long before she's tightening around me, her nails digging into my shoulders.
"Kane—"
"I've got you."
She comes with my name on her lips, and I follow her over the edge, collapsing against her as we both shudder and breathe.
Afterward, I roll onto my back and pull her against my chest.
She fits there perfectly.
"Stay," she whispers.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?"
"Yeah. I promise."
She falls asleep in my arms, her breathing slow and even.
I stay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling.
I think about the report. Leanne. The shitshow tomorrow might bring. How, regardless of how well or how badly it goes, I'm still going to have to break Lilah's heart at the end of it by telling her what her mother did.
But right now, I push it all aside.
Because I'm exactly where I want to be.
The next morning, I wake to Delilah moving around the bedroom.
She's already dressed—a dark green sweater that brings out the color of her eyes, paired with dark jeans and boots. Her hair's pulled back in a low ponytail, her preferred hairstyle for when she's trying to keep everything neat and under control.
She looks so fucking beautiful. Effortless. Like herself.
I have never loved her more.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"Ten."
I sit up. "What time do we need to leave?"
"Noon. But I wanted to get ready early."
I watch her check her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her sweater.
"You nervous?" I ask.
"A little."
"We can skip it. Stay here instead."
She turns to me. "I don't want to skip it. I just want to be prepared."
"For what?"
"For whatever happens. If my mom tries to make me responsible for fixing things with Vivian. Or if she brings up the venue payment again."
I stand and cross to her. "Then we leave. Like we talked about."
"You'll really leave with me?"
"Yeah. The second you want to go."
"Even if we haven't had a bite of turkey?"
"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I don't give a shit about your mother's turkey."
She laughs. "Okay."
I kiss her forehead. "You're stronger than you think."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
She leans into me for a moment. Then she pulls back. "I should finish getting ready."
"You look perfect."
"I look like I'm trying too hard. Or not trying hard enough."
"You look like you."
She smiles. "Thanks."
I head to the bathroom and shower, then dress in the clothes I left in her drawer.
We drive to Leanne's house in silence.
Delilah gazes out the window, her hands folded in her lap.
I reach over and take her hand.
She squeezes back.
When we pull up to the house, there are already cars lining the street.
Delilah exhales. "Here we go."
"You ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
I park and come around to open her door.
She takes my hand and we walk up the driveway together.
At the front door, she hesitates.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah. Just—give me a second."
She takes a breath. Then another.
Then she looks up at me. "If she tries to make me fix things with Vivian—"
"We leave."
"And if she brings up the venue—"
"We leave."
"And if she—"
"Lilah. Whatever happens, we leave together. You don't owe her anything. You're here because you want to be. And the second that changes, we're gone."
She nods. "Okay."
"You trust me?"
"Yeah. I trust you."
She rings the doorbell.
And together, we step inside.