Page 36 of The Lilac River (Silver Peaks #1)

Shame – Robbie Williams

Lily

I ’d only been at school for a couple of hours and was already desperate for the day to end.

Lack of sleep, aching muscles from incredible sex, and a pounding headache from crying half the night.

It was a miracle I’d even made it through the door.

I moved like I was underwater, everything just slightly off—too slow, too loud, too much.

Add in the chill from being caught in the rain and, well, I was barely hanging on. My skin still felt raw from the cold and the heat of his touch, overlapping like bruises I couldn’t see.

Thank God Mom and Grandma had gone to visit one of Grandma’s friends back in Burlington for a few days. It meant I could go straight to my room, turn off the lights, and cry into my pillow without having to explain that I’d had sex with Nash—twice—and he regretted it.

Every time I thought about it, my heart hammered painfully, pulsing in time with the throb still lingering between my legs. It had been everything I remembered and more. Nash was more confident now, instinctively knowing what I needed and giving it without hesitation.

I’d loved every desperate, aching second of it and yet doubt had crept in. I’d barely stopped myself from asking for reassurance.

Thank God I hadn’t.

He’d made it clear soon enough. It had been a mistake.

I wished I could erase it from my mind, but the memories clung to me like a second skin. So instead, I shoved them aside and threw myself into today's lesson: Family Trees. I could handle that. I could stay in the lines, keep it structured.

We’d talked a lot about different types of families. Some of my kids had two dads, some lived with step-parents, some didn’t know one of their parents.

It was a beautiful, messy patchwork and for once, no one thought any of it was strange.

Thank goodness those days were gone where you were seen as ‘weird’ if your mom and dad didn’t live together, or God forbid you were from a single parent family.

I’d experienced those whispers and anxiety when it was the Daddy/Daughter dance at school. I still remembered the sinking feeling in my stomach when I had no one to take me.

This school and these kids were so much more forward-thinking, so it was a lesson I was enjoying giving.

"Miss. Gray."

A small hand tugged at my sleeve.

I turned and found Bertie, looking unusually serious. Her little brows were drawn together in frustration, and her ponytail was starting to come loose.

"Hey, Bertie. What’s up?"

She frowned, bottom lip sticking out. "I wanted to put my grandma on my family tree, but Macey said I can’t because she’s dead."

I crouched to her level and smoothed a hand over her hair. "Of course you can. Families include everyone, even the ones we can’t see anymore."

Bertie shot a withering glare across the room, her tiny hands going to her hips. I bit back a smile.

"I knew it," she declared. "And I know who my mom is. Daddy told me. But I’m not putting her on there."

"You can if you want to. It’s your tree."

She shook her head fiercely. "Nuh-uh. She gave up rental rights to Daddy."

"Parental," I corrected gently.

"Yep, that’s what I said. Daddy told me I never have to worry about her coming to take me away. That’s why she’s not on my tree."

My heart twisted. I knew exactly how scared she must have been. My biggest worry as a child had been that my dad would come back and make me live with him. And I was a teenager who knew he was in prison for life, so imagine what her little mind must have been going through.

"You add whoever you want, sweetheart," I said. "And if you want to put Felicia and Shane on there, too, that’s perfect."

Bertie leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. "I wish you were my mom," she whispered. "But don’t tell the others. They’ll think I’m silly."

Tears burned my eyes. God, I loved this little girl.

"I won’t tell," I promised.

She opened her mouth to say something else, hesitated, then leaned in again.

"I think Daddy might like you too."

The world tilted for a second. My heart thudded heavily as she grinned at me, full of secrets.

"I don’t know about that, Bertie," I said weakly.

"I think you do," she giggled. "Because he has a picture of you both."

I froze. "A picture?"

"He’s kissing you. You’re in the lavender field. I found it in his drawer. I wasn’t snooping!" she added quickly.

"That’s good," I managed, my heart a chaotic mess. “And that picture must have been a long time ago.”

I could still remember lying in the fields as a teenager, the warm buzz of bees in the air, the heady perfume of the lavender so strong it made me dizzy. It had always felt like magic there.

"You do look young. Older than me but much younger than you are now, but I can tell it’s you. It says, ‘me and Lila in the lilac river’ on the back," she said proudly. "I didn’t know your name was Lila. I won’t tell anyone."

Adrenaline rushed through me. Nash had kept it. He hadn’t burned every memory of us after all.

"I think the picture makes him sad," Bertie said, her little voice somber.

"Sad?"

She nodded." I hear him open the drawer. He says a bad word, then slams it shut again. And there’s nothing else in there. Just that."

My throat thickened painfully.

"Maybe he’s just sad he’s not young anymore," I offered, my voice rough.

She thought about it seriously, then shook her head. "Nope. He’s sad you’re not friends anymore. Anyway, I’m going to tell Macey she’s talking rubbish about my grandma.”

Before I could respond, she spun away, marching off to give Macey a piece of her mind.

And just like that, my heart shattered all over again.

The noise in the staffroom thudded against my skull. My throat was scratchy, my head pounding.

"Can I sit here?"

I looked up. Marty Harris, our fifth grade teacher. His eyebrows were raised in question as he licked his lips nervously, food on his tie as usual.

He’d been asking to sit next to me at lunch all week, which I had a sneaky suspicion was him leading up to asking me on a date. Of course, I’d said it was okay, but today it was the last thing I wanted.

Plus, he reeked of cologne which indicated to me he might have finally found the courage. Today of all days.

"Erm, su?—"

"Hey! Sorry I’m late. Are we still going for that walk?"

Bless Cassidy and her impeccable timing.

"Yes. Absolutely." I grabbed my sandwich and let her drag me outside.

"You owe me a drink," she hissed as we slipped through the doors.

"I know," I groaned. "I would’ve said yes. I’m pathetic."

"Exactly why you need me." She led me to a shaded bench under a tree. "Sit. You look terrible."

I flopped down, pushing my fingers into my temples. "I think I might need a sick afternoon."

She pressed a hand to my forehead. "You’re hot. And not in a cute way."

"It’s fine," I muttered, even as a wave of nausea hit me.

"Do you need to go to the pharmacy?" she asked gently. “Or the doctor?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Liar.” She stared at me, two lines of consternation between her eyes. “I want the truth, or do I drag you to the doctor myself?”

I hesitated. How could I tell her the real reason I was falling apart?

"Cassidy, I..." I swallowed hard.

“Oh my God.” Her slim fingers wrapped around her throat. “Are you seriously ill?”

"No. No. Honestly, it’s just…I had sex with Nash. In the rain, in the lavender field and then on their dining table. And then,” I said, my voice cracking, “he made it clear it was a mistake."

She blinked. "Wow. That’s a lot considering I thought maybe you had strep or something.”

"The fact that we had sex, or that he regretted it?"

"All of it.” She whistled. “Jeez. Did he say that?"

"No," I whispered. "But I could see it."

Cassidy flopped back on the bench; arms crossed. "So, you don’t know for sure?"

"No. But I didn’t want to hear excuses. I just wanted to leave. Wilder took me home."

"Hence why you look like death warmed over." She studied me for a long moment. "Maybe you’re sick with something else. Besides Nash’s dick."

"Cassidy!"

"What?" She shrugged. "You had field-and-rain-and-dining table sex. Twice. That’s some commitment."

I glared. "If you count that he also went down on me for a little while, it’s kinda like three times."

Cassidy gasped, clutching her chest. "So once in the rain and…let’s call it one and a half on the dining table!"

"Yes. And then I left."

“But he didn’t say those actual words.” I shook my head. She grew serious. "You need to talk to him. Really talk."

I shook my head.

"I can’t. Plus, my mom’s thinking about telling her story to the newspaper," I blurted out. "About my dad. That way the mayor has nothing to blackmail us with."

Cassidy's face darkened. "That bastard."

"It would cause too much trouble."

"Honey," she said softly. "You’re already living in the wreckage. It’s time to start tearing down the ruins and building something new. With Nash without the secrets and lies."

I stared at her, matching her intense gaze.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was finally time to push that first domino.