Knowing we didn’t have to hide made an indescribable feeling swell inside me. Like I was happier than I’d ever been. Like I was on some high you couldn’t even get from drugs. Like I could do absolutely anything in the world . . . and like, if I stopped touching Brody, all of it would come crashing down around me in a second. This feeling made me want to scream in excitement—and then cry because all the hiding and stress was finally behind us.

“You want to do anything, or do you want to go home?”

I smiled up at Brody and tried to not roll my eyes. “I love being able to be in public with you just as much as you love it,” I said, “but I kind of just want to go back home.” I kissed him quickly and skipped a step ahead of him so I could turn to face him. “I was thinking we could curl up on the couch and watch another movie, or maybe you could feed me something sweet . . .” I trailed off, and his eyebrows rose. “Maybe a shower together . . .”

He grabbed at my waist and pulled me back into his arms, his lips falling lightly onto mine. “All of the above,” he said against my mouth. “Come on, let’s go.”

Brody turned us around to walk in the opposite direction, picking up the pace as we made our way back to his SUV. The entire time we walked he whispered into my ear what he wanted to do when we got home, and by the time we got to the car I was practically running to get inside—and was almost positive we would be skipping the movie and couch time.

“Eager?” he asked, and I winked as I laughed, but the laugh stopped short when I noticed Brody’s expression fall.

“What?” When he didn’t respond, I rounded the front of his Expedition. “Brody, what is it?”

He swallowed hard and looked around us as he tore off the note that had been taped to the driver’s side window.

“What is this?”

“Get in the car, Kamryn.”

“But what—”

“Get in the car first, then we’ll talk about it.”

His tone left no room for discussion, but even still, he put his arm around my shoulders and walked me to the passenger door to let me in before going back to his side and getting in.

“What—” I cut off quickly when he handed me the paper, and I hurried to put my seat belt on when he started up the car and tore out of the parking spot and onto the street. “Jesus, Brody.”

“You know what Olivia looks like, right?”

“Uh, yeah . . .” I said uncertainly, drawing out the word like it was a question. I knew exactly what she looked like, but I didn’t understand. Flipping over the paper, my mouth fell open and I felt dizzy when I read the words.

“Have you seen her at all in the last week when we’ve been out?” Brody asked when we stopped at a light. “Kam, baby, have you?” He turned my head so I was facing him, and then pointed down at the letter. “Don’t worry about the lawyer and court bullshit. I’m not. It’s just, until I saw that, I forgot she’d been to your bakery, and I don’t trust her not to pull some stupid shit with you.”

“I haven’t seen her,” I said breathlessly.

I wasn’t worried about the words on the paper either. After telling Brody to show up on Tuesday for a meeting with their lawyers so they could settle things or she’d take him to court, she ended the letter with:

By the way, cute girlfriend you have there.

xo Liv (your wife)

And like Brody, when I read those words, I remembered that I’d already met Olivia. But my first thought hadn’t been fear that she might try to make my life hell by showing up at my bakery. My first thought was that she knew who I was.

“Brody,” I began, taking deep breaths as I prepared myself to tell him about my past—about Kamryn Cunningham.

“Yeah? Shit, hold on.” He grabbed for his ringing cell phone, and I snapped my mouth shut, taking that as a sign that now wasn’t the time to tell him.

I RAN TO the door of my bakery on Tuesday morning, thankful that today wasn’t one of the days Kinlee and I drove together. But I didn’t know how long this would continue, or if it was even something I should tell her.

We should totally go for drinks . . . you can bring my worthless, cheating husband!

Every day since Saturday morning there had been a note on the front of my bakery from Olivia—Monday there had been two since we were closed on Sundays. Brody knew about them, and every day I’d tried to tell him about my life in Kentucky before I’d moved here. But it never failed that something happened when I started to tell him, and then, when we were talking later, I wouldn’t have the nerve to bring it up. I wanted to keep living as though that time in my life had never existed.

But the more Olivia left me notes, the more I worried she would mention something to Brody.

As of right now, he only knew about Barb, who he still thought was my aunt. Barb had called once since we told her about our relationship, and while it was better between her and me, it wasn’t how it had been. She’d even asked to talk to Brody, and apparently she’d been nice to him. But even Barb thought it was better if everyone in Jeston thought of her as my aunt. She didn’t want me to have to think of my old life any more than I wanted to.

I left it for a reason. It’s not like I’m hiding a criminal history. I just don’t want to be Kamryn Cunningham anymore! And I couldn’t believe I was actually standing outside my bakery with my head to the glass door, trying to justify not telling Brody.