7. Unveiling Confessions in the Darkness

Lily's POV

Garrett seemed mildly taken aback by the sheer volume of questions I fired at him, yet he answered each one, his responses hinting at a willingness to let me peek behind his guarded exterior.

“I prefer winter, coffee, my favorite color’s blue, I enjoy quiet places, yes, I love music. My favorite song is ‘Hurt’ by Johnny Cash. For books, it’s tough to pick just one, but I’m fond of ‘1984’ by George Orwell.”

I was utterly delighted to uncover more about him through his answers. Each reply peeled back a layer, revealing glimpses of his tastes and character. Beaming, I pressed on with my curiosity.

“What’s your favorite movie? Your favorite food?”

He paused, considering, before replying thoughtfully.

“My favorite movie’s ‘Fight Club.’ For food, I’d say a well-cooked steak.”

Our footsteps reverberated softly through the park as I continued my barrage of questions, and he responded patiently, unveiling a side of him I’d never seen. It was a serene, pleasant exchange, and I felt an invisible thread tightening between us.

As the afternoon waned, the sun dipped low, splashing the sky with golden and orange streaks. I paused my questioning, simply soaking in the tranquil beauty beside Garrett and Arthur. The air felt warm and intimate, and for a fleeting moment, we seemed like a little family.

“Thank you for humoring my questions, Garrett. It’s been lovely learning more about you,” I said earnestly, a smile curving my lips as I glanced at him.

He met my gaze and returned a soft smile, one that seemed to brighten his whole face with rare warmth.

“The pleasure’s mine, Lily. It’s refreshing to talk and share a little with someone.”

That tender, unguarded moment chipped away at the walls between us. I sensed I was earning his trust, bit by bit, and it filled me with quiet joy. Perhaps we were more than employer and nanny—maybe a friendship was budding, or even something deeper. But I wasn’t prepared for what came next.

A maid had once told me that Mrs. Felicity, Garrett’s late wife, had lovingly decorated Arthur’s room with him during her pregnancy. They’d poured their hearts into it, eagerly awaiting their child.

But after Felicity’s death in childbirth, Mr. Ward demanded every trace of it stripped away, banished to the castle’s dungeons as mere storage. Disheartened by his choice, I enlisted the maid’s help to retrieve those items. Determined to restore Arthur’s room, I wanted him surrounded by joy.

I started with the crib, attaching the playful decorations and hanging toys above it. Arthur giggled, overjoyed as he batted at them, his delight spurring me on. Smiling, I assembled the wardrobe, neatly folding his clothes, and arranged cozy furniture, placing his toys on the sideboard.

That day, Mr. Ward had been in town working, but he returned early evening and came straight to our room. Turning, I saw him in the doorway, silently watching. My face lit up with a wide grin.

“Hello! Look what I found in the dungeon—Arthur’s thrilled with his new toys,” I said brightly. We’d grown closer lately—I’d kept asking him questions, he’d answered willingly, and we’d chatted for hours about trivial things. He’d even started smiling, laughing occasionally, and it warmed me to know I could ease his bitterness, if only a little.

“Who told you to do this?” His voice cut through, sharp and cold, as he lingered in the doorway. My smile faltered at his stern expression. I stood, halting my work.

“No one, sir. I just thought some color would make Arthur happier…”

“You’re not paid to make decisions here!” he snapped, striding toward me. “I ordered this burned—you had no right to interfere.” His jaw clenched as he closed the distance.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again…” I stepped back, recalling the dungeon incident weeks ago—his fury then mirrored this now.

“Why do you keep meddling? Why do you care? This child isn’t yours. Once you’re no use, I’ll take him and leave—you’ll never see him again. You know that, so why bother with him—or me?” His closeness stole my words. Tears welled up, spilling over as the thought of losing Arthur crushed me. Was he trying to shatter me? “Why are you crying? Do you love him that much?” My sobs deepened, and he gently wiped a tear with his thumb—a simple, startling gesture.

Then, shockingly, he grasped the back of my neck and kissed me. My eyes widened at the suddenness, but he pulled away abruptly, his face troubled, and fled the room. Stunned, I sank to the floor amid the scattered decorations, fingers trembling as they brushed my lips. Had Garrett Ward kissed me? What did it mean?

That night, after settling Arthur to sleep and returning the decorations to the dungeon, I lay in bed, eyes closed, when a guard summoned me to Garrett’s office. Slipping a robe over my nightgown, I followed. He sat slouched in his chair, tie loosened messily, hair disheveled, a nearly empty whiskey bottle in hand.

“Sit,” he slurred, gesturing with the bottle to the chair opposite him. I nodded faintly and sat. He was drunk. “Think you’re special, don’t you?” he mocked, laughing bitterly. Was this a reprimand? “When I drink, my tongue loosens—I say what I think.

I’ve wanted to tell you things since you arrived. You’ve brightened my son’s life—and mine. Why? You’re so cheerful, so gentle—it’s impossible not to like you. Are you trying to make me happy? Why care? You’re so like her… Felicity… So like her, I sometimes think she’s still here. Then I realize it’s you, and I hate you for it.”

“But I’m not her…”

“No, you’re not!” he snapped, then softened, voice breaking. “But I wish you were… If you were, I wouldn’t feel so guilty for liking you, Lily, while I swore eternal love to my dead wife. If you were her, I wouldn’t feel so damned guilty for wanting you.”