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“At least there’s not a bunch of women to compare me to, I guess.”
“Nobodycompares to you.” I put the laptop aside, stride across the room, and pull her to her feet. “You’re so much better than anybody else, but it’s not even that. You’re just… you. Incomparable. You’re my virgin. My Lucy Hutchinson. The future mother to my children. You’re everything I ever wanted without knowing I wanted it because I couldn’t have known before seeing you.”
Her eyes glisten. She stares at me as if urging me to say it. To tell her I love her. Then the laptop makes a notification sound.
“That’s an email,” she says, turning away.
Maybe she sensed it too, how close we were.
“It’s the website, Jamie. Holy… They’ve accepted it. The headline took it right to the front of the pile. They’re going to publish ittonight.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Lucy
“Is all this true?” Sabrina asks on the phone.
I’m sitting in my bedroom listening to Jamie and the police officers coming and going. The articleblew uplast night. The major news outlets started covering it.
News cameras are out front of the house, with a dedicated police vehicle across the street. Honestly, the cops don’t seem too keen on protecting us, but Jamie was right. Now they have to take this seriously. They can’t brush it away, pretend it didn’t happen, or anything like that.
“Yes,” I tell her.
“Lucy told me, ‘I fell for him the first moment I saw him in the documentary ‘Artists Inside. I never dreamed he’d feel the same. When I discovered my father was still alive, I knew my heart was telling me the truth. He was the man for me. He isn’t a killer.’”
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
Sabrina lets out a long, trembling breath. I bet she’s wrapping her blond hair around her finger with her face scrunched up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought he killed my dad. What was I supposed to say?I’ve got a major crush on a brutal, sadistic killer—the man who took my only remaining parent?”
“You’ve had so much sadness in your life, Lucy. Your dad, your aunt… It’s just not fair. One person shouldn’t have to lose so much. Iwantyou to be happy, but it all seems so…”
“It’s okay. You can say it.”
“Crazy,” she sighs. “Doesn’t it? Love at first sight?”
I glance at the door and bite down. Standing, I walk to the window, peel the curtain back an inch, and see the news crews standing on the street in the overcast gray. I didn’t even want myneighborsto know back when this started, but that was before I knew he wanted me too.
“You only met with him a few days ago. Not even a week, right?”
“Right.”
“So how can you know you love him?”
“We haven’t actually used that word.”
“Why are you whispering all of a sudden?”
I can’t help but smile. “Am I?”
“Are you scared of saying ‘love’ in case he hears?”
“No.”
“Say it, then,” she teases.
