The Wedding She Survived novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Pickup Day

At the preschool, Willa faces down the parents who laughed at her wedding and sets her terms. Killian has rented the house across the street.

Killian was waiting at the preschool gate at three o'clock the next afternoon.

I had told him nothing about where my kids went to school.

"How did you find this place?" I asked.

"There are two preschools within a mile of your mother's house," he said. "I picked the one with the triplet stickers on the door."

"You were going to watch them from behind a fence."

"I was going to stand here and not say a word until you told me to."

"Then stand over there, and don't speak."

He stepped back against the fence.

The other parents were already lined up on the sidewalk, and I felt every one of them look at him.

This was a small neighborhood, and the Draycott name was on half the boats in the harbor.

Somebody whispered. Somebody else whispered back.

Then a woman in a puffy vest turned around fully and smiled at me.

She had been at my wedding, third row, in a blue hat.

She had also been the one who forwarded the newspaper photo to the whole parents' group chat, under the words *bless her heart*.

"Well," she said, loud enough for the line to hear. "Look who came back. Willa, honey, did he bring a check, or just an apology?"

A man behind her laughed.

My face went hot, and for one second I wanted to walk away and take my kids with me.

Then I thought about standing at those church doors for forty minutes with my hands shaking around a bouquet.

I thought about being walked out the side door while the guests stared.

I didn't walk away.

I stepped sideways until I was standing next to Killian.

Then I turned and faced the woman in the vest, and the line, and the open gate.

"He left, and I stayed," I said. "I raised three children for five years with no help from him, and I did it in this town, right in front of you."

The woman's smile slipped.

"If you want to know which of us should be ashamed," I said, "you can ask him. He's standing right here."

Nobody laughed this time.

Killian took one step forward.

"It's true," he said. "I walked out on her, and I have no excuse. I'm sorry she had to stand in front of you all while I was gone."

The woman in the vest looked at the pavement.

The gate opened, and the teacher called the children out two by two.

Poppy came first, with a drawing in her fist and one sock missing.

Finn followed with his shirt already stained.

Sebastian came last, holding the teacher's hand, and when he saw the man at the fence he stopped dead and stared.

"Hi, Mommy," he said. "It's him again."

"Hi, buddy."

"Why is he here?"

"He's a friend of mine," I said, and I felt Killian flinch beside me. "His name is Killian."

"Hi, Killian," Sebastian said, tipping his head back. "You have my eyes."

"I know," Killian said, and his voice cracked. "I'm very glad you have them."

I drove them to the little park at the end of the street so that the line of parents would stop watching.

Killian followed in his own car and parked behind me.

I got the kids settled on the swings, and then I walked back to him with my arms crossed.

"You don't get to decide anything here," I said. "I do. Here are my terms."

"Say them."

"One. You never call yourself their father until I say so."

"Agreed."

"Two. You see them Saturdays, at the harbor park, with me standing there."

"Agreed."

"Three. No money. Not a dollar, not a toy, not a college fund. I won't be paid for."

His jaw tightened.

"Willa, that's their money as much as mine."

"I told you the terms."

"All right. Agreed."

"Four. You don't touch me."

I said it quickly, and he looked at me for a moment longer than he should have.

"Agreed," he said quietly.

"If you break any one of them, you don't see them again."

"I understand."

"Good."

I turned around to collect my kids.

The swings were empty.

For one cold second I couldn't breathe, and then I saw all three of them at the top of the slide, shouting down at Killian.

He was already moving with both hands out.

"They're fine," I said. "They do this every day."

"They're four."

"They're mine," I said. "Let me drive them home."

He nodded and went back to his car.

When I turned onto Alder Street, the neighbor across from our house was hammering a rental sign off his lawn.

A black sedan was backing into his driveway.

Killian got out, took a duffel bag from the trunk, and looked straight across the street at my kitchen window.

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