Page 247 of Sweet Ruin

“Yes.”

“You picked him because he was desperate. You thought you could get him to do what you wanted.”

“Yes.”

“Did you offer him money you knew he couldn’t repay?”

“Yes.”

“Did you require collateral that only my bakery could satisfy?”

“Yes.”

“You expected him to default, and then you’d be able to claim the building.”

“Yes.”

She looks toward the kitchen. I wait.

When she faces me again, her eyes are wet.

“Did you tell him to sign my name?”

“No.” I lean closer, fists pressed on the counter. “Lilah, I swear I did not do that.”

“But you found out sooner or later, and at that point, did you do anything to set the record straight? Or did you just say, Hey, good enough, I’ll get what I want one way or another?”

I gnash my teeth. There’s nothing to say, and we both know it.

But that’s not good enough for her.

“Answer the question, Kane.”

My eyes fall to my fists. All the fight goes rushing out of me. “I knew,” I murmur. “Yes, I knew. And I chose to let it stand. Worse than that—I used it to keep you here.”

“With you.”

“Yes. With me. Is that so wrong?” I raise my gaze up to meet hers. “That I did it for you?”

“Ha.” Her lips twist in a sneer. “You did it to me. Not for me. And in the end, the damage is the same. You took the last thing that was mine. You’re just like them, Kane. You’re just like all of them.”

A single tear drips down her face and lands in the traces of sugar on the counter. Little crystals of the stuff swirl in her sadness.

“What’s killing me is this,” she says after a moment, composing herself and glaring at me again. “Why spend all this time with me, all the holidays? You had everything you wanted all wrapped up with a neat little bow. You didn’t have to take me out. You didn’t have to… to kiss me… Or the photographs, the gifts… Did you just enjoy the games? Is it fun for you when I look stupid?”

I wait until she looks at me.

“I wanted you from that very first night,” I tell her as solemnly as I can. “In the pantry. That was real before we ever made an agreement. It stayed real.”

Tears are still pouring down her face, but the only emotion I see in her eyes is resignation. It’s scar tissue growing in real time. Her heart hardening over.

Toward me most of all.

“I wish I could believe that,” she says.

I surge toward her, but the counter stops me from reaching her. “Lilah, you can.”

“No. I can’t.” She shakes her head slowly. “You don’t understand—it isn’t about whether you’re telling the truth right now. Maybe you are. I don’t know. I can’t tell anymore.” She takes a step backward. “My husband, my sister, my mother, you. Four for four in bad decisions. So the thing in me that decides who to trust is broken. It’s just broken, Kane. And there’s no answer you can give me that fixes it.”