His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that we planned this. You wanted her gone, remember? You said you couldn’t stand living this lie anymore, that you were done with her. And now you’re here—fuming, hysterical, acting like you’ve lost the love of your life.” Delilah’s voice dripped with contempt. “Didn’t we want this? So why are you looking at me like I’m the villain?”
For a moment, Nathaniel couldn’t answer. Her words dug into his mind, pulling at memories he’d buried deep.
He remembered the first time he noticed Eleanor. She had been standing alone on the pier that evening, the sun sinking low, spilling gold over the water.
The wind caught her hair, tossing it across her face, but she didn’t mind. She was smiling at something on her phone, laughing quietly to herself.
Curiosity had pulled him closer. “What’s so funny?” he’d asked, half-expecting her to flinch at the intrusion.
Instead, she’d glanced up at him with those steady, dark eyes. “A joke my brother sent me,” she said simply, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Do you want to hear it, or are you just nosy by nature?”
The corner of his mouth had curved. “Maybe both.”