With her hands clenched into fists inside her coat pockets, Lorna stood outside Michael's estate. The air was cooler than anticipated in the evening, and the wind carried the pungent smell of rain. Her heart thumping under the weight of what she was about to say, she paused for a moment on the stone steps.
The confession was something she had practiced a hundred times. worked on the words. pictured his possible reaction—one of compassion, understanding, perhaps even love.
However, she hadn't taken silence into consideration.
Something in Michael's eyes caused her chest to tighten when he eventually opened the door.
He wasn't upset. He wasn't himself, though.
"Hey," she murmured.
"Hi." He moved to make room for her.
She was still tense despite the house's warmth. The fire crackled softly as she followed him into the living room. Michael didn't take a seat. He simply stood by the window with a glass of unopened scotch in one hand and his pocket in the other.
She smiled nervously and began, "I've been meaning to talk to you." "I need to share something with you."
Michael's jaw was clenched as he turned halfway toward her. "Something from your history?"
She gasped. "Yes."
He gave one nod. "Lorna, I already know."
She stopped. "What?"
His eyes were unreadable as he turned to face her. An unidentified message. a court file that has been sealed. order of restraint. Until I saw the picture, I was initially unaware of this name.
She exhaled the air.
She whispered, "I was going to tell you—tonight." "You need to trust me."
Michael put down the glass a bit too firmly. "Why didn't you, then? We've experienced a lot. I had faith in you."
She came forward and said, "I was scared." "I didn't want your perception of me to be defined by that aspect of me. I've put a lot of effort into getting rid of it."
He said calmly, "You didn't trust me enough to handle it."
Lorna's eyes glistened with suppressed passion. "You weren't the focus. It was about surviving something that almost broke me, about me. I required time. Space. I was going to be honest, though. I was prepared.
Michael's gaze shifted to his hands. "What made you decide to change your name?"
Her voice was trembling as she said, "Because Mason wouldn't stop." "Because I was not protected by the police." I made every effort to vanish from sight. I created a new life. One in which I was no longer a victim.
There was silence between them.
"I'm not embarrassed to have survived," she said softly. "But I regret not telling you sooner because I was afraid."
At last, Michael looked her in the eye. Pain, betrayal, doubt, and longing were all part of his storm of conflict.
After a long pause, he said, "I need time to think." "To sort all this out."
Even though her heart was breaking, Lorna nodded. "I get it."
She started to walk out the door, but stopped. "When I stated that I was prepared to be honest, I meant it. Michael, I'm not hiding anymore. Whether or not you decide to pardon me.
Michael remained motionless for a long moment as the door shut behind her.
He wasn't upset with her; rather, he was upset with the timing, the anxiety, and the unsightly reminder that the past could tarnish even something genuine.
In his heart, though, he wasn't sure if he was more angry with himself or Lorna.