Stories We Shouldn't Tell

He was twelve. She was smiling. She took the cigarette out of his fingers. At twenty-nine, Willa Hayes is broke, pregnant, and one bad week from the gutter when she takes a live-in housekeeper job at the Vance estate in Greenwich, Connecticut. Her employer is a wealthy widower with a thirteen-year-old son and a smile she doesn't quite trust. The job is supposed to be temporary. Get the baby. Get on her feet. Get out. Then her employer drives her to a prenatal appointment in February. He doesn't come home. Six months later, Willa is bleeding out on the bedroom rug of a house that no longer belongs to anyone. The thirteen-year-old walks in and asks if she's hungry. By morning, the two of them - the orphaned heir and the woman who has nothing left to lose - have signed a suicide pact on a torn-out sheet of notebook paper. Five years. Then they end it together. Ten years pass. He grows up beautiful. He grows up dangerous. He grows up unrecognizable. And the demon she didn't know she was raising is, finally, in love with her. ⸻ A slow-burn, decade-long descent into the kind of love story that should never have been allowed to take root. He Was Twelve is for readers of Penelope Douglas, H. D. Carlton, and Ana Huang - anyone who has ever wondered what becomes of two suicidal people who keep each other alive by accident. Tropes: Age gap (16 years, woman older) • Decade-long slow burn • Forbidden / caretaker-to-lover • Morally gray possessive hero • Obsessive love • Trauma bonding • Suicide pact • Wealthy private equity heir • Bittersweet, ambiguous ending Content notes: On-page suicidal ideation and self-harm. Childhood abuse referenced. On-page accidental death. Pregnancy loss. Obsessive, controlling hero behavior. The age-gap relationship is entirely platonic during the hero's minority; the romance only develops after both characters are consenting adults.