“I know you’re mad at me,” I tell her softly. “I don’t want to make you angry, Kat. I love you, and I’m trying.”
The trace of all humor fades and she peeks up at me and whispers, “I wish you wouldn’t.”
I brush the hair from her face and smile down at her as I tell her, “I’ll never stop fighting for you.”
At my words, she pushes away from me and says, “Then let’s talk until the rain lets up.” She looks over her shoulder and out of the window, as if checking to see if our time is already up.
We head to the back corner of the shop, to her spot and her safe place. I can’t count the number of times I’ve sat here with her while she rambled on and told me about her day. Although that was before. It’s been too long.
The rest of the seating in the place is all high-top tables and bar-height seats, but in the corner is an L-shaped booth. The same shiny white tabletop, but the seating is for customers who want to spend a while in here and that’s what I need with her right now, more time.
She doesn’t look at me as she tosses her purse into the booth and then fishes out her wallet.
“You like him?” I question, feeling small pieces of my heart crumble off. Kat’s eyes narrow as she huffs out a breath of frustration.
“Knock it off,” she answers and I feel torn. I saw the look in her eyes. She’s a natural flirt and so am I, but I know she liked the attention more than she should. She felt comfortable with it.
“I don’t like him.”
“Good to know,” she answers me immediately, crossing her arms as she walks toward the counter to order something.
I follow her like a lost fucking puppy. It’s quiet between us and the tension is thick as she orders a coffee or whatever the hell it is. The blood is pounding so hard in my ears, I can’t hear a damn thing.
“I mean it. He wants you, Kat,” I tell her and then nearly flinch from the look in her eyes. “I don’t want anyone else’s hands on you.”
“It was innocent.”
“The hell it was,” I bite back instantly, keeping my voice low. I don’t give her a chance to speak.
“You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t like it.” The air between us turns hot instantly.
“He’s a client,” she says beneath her breath. My eyes dart from her to the man behind the counter. As soon as I look at him, he averts his eyes, pretending like he didn’t just hear the venom in Kat’s voice.
“Client or not,” I say, standing my ground but all it does is wind Kat up more.
“I’m not the one keeping secrets and lying, I’m not the one who’s breaking up this marriage,” she says much lower, so much so that it sounds like it was hard for her to even get the words out.
“Stop it,” I tell her and grip her hip as she tries to walk past me, back to the booth and undoubtedly to get her stuff and leave.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear and hold her closer to me. I splay my hand on her lower back, feeling the tension in her body slowly leave her. Her body is hot next to mine.
I could fight this, but it’s not worth it to upset her. I wait, giving her a moment to calm down and forget about that asshole. For now.
I sit back in the seat, watching the steam rise from her cup as she slips the lid off and grabs a packet of sugar from the center of the table.
The packet makes a flapping sound as she shakes it back and forth between her forefinger and thumb to get the sugar down. The motion is forceful and she stares at it as she does it, before finally ripping it open and dumping the sugar into the cup.
“I don’t tell you everything.” The words slip out as the need to win her back takes over everything else.
She’s still for a moment, waiting for more, but not looking me in the eyes.
“It’s not like I do anything that’s … that I want to hide from you. You know what it’s like when I go to work.”
“I know,” Kat says with zero trace of a fight in her voice. “I remember.”
“I loved it when you came out with me. You know that, right?”
She finally looks up at me, but only for a moment before she nods her head then slips on the cap to her coffee cup. Her voice is full of remorse as she tells me, “I don’t have time for that anymore.”
I love that her mind immediately went to the thought of me asking her to come with me. At the beginning of this year, that’s all I wanted from her. So we could spend more time together and I could show her off. But the answer was always “no, I can’t take time off” so I stopped asking. My heart thumps hard in my chest, remembering how we got into a fight over her not wanting to come with me to Rome a few months back.
“I gave my notice,” I tell her and her eyes fly to mine, looking accusing more than anything. “Because you wanted me to.” I say the words as if they’re the truth and for a moment it feels like they are. But then I remember that’s not the reason. I remember what happened. I remember everything in a flood and I have to turn away to breathe in deep and focus on keeping Kat. That’s the only thing I care about while everything else collapses around me.
“And because I want to quit too.”
“When’s your last day?” There’s a small bit of hope in her voice, and I watch it shatter as I hesitate to answer.
“I don’t know. He … umm. James.” I run my hand down the back of my head and I hate how Kat sees through it all. Her head shakes with disappointment. “It’s not finalized.”
I nearly forget everything I planned on telling her, but somehow I hold on to it and continue, “I regret a lot of the things I’ve done this year and maybe for a while now—”
“For a while?” Kat repeats and her eyes reflect the pain that’s in her voice.
“I didn’t cheat on you, Kat. It’s not what you think,” I tell her and feel like a liar. “I told you, you’re the only one for me.”
Before I can say anything else, she shakes her head and that false smile mars her face. “I don’t know what you did. But I don’t want to know anymore,” she says quietly, staring at the cup in her hands before looking back up at me. “We’re different people and I think it was only a matter of time before something like this …” her voice cracks, but she doesn’t cry. She simply looks away.
My heartbeat slows. So slow that it’s painful.
“Where are you sleeping tonight?” Kat asks me and I have to swallow the spiked lump deep down in my throat before I can answer.
“You still don’t want me to come home?”
“It would be easier if you didn’t.”
“Easier for what?”
“Easier for the breakup, Evan.” Her lips part and then she adds, “It’s not about love anymore or about what we had. It’s about trust and what we’ve become. I need a fresh start and a life I’m proud of. And I don’t think it includes you in it.”
“It does,” I answer her instantly. “And I want the same.”
She stares back at me with an expression that shows how vulnerable she is. How much she wants to believe what I’m telling her.