Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
KATHERINE
He didn’t show. I don’t think it was the fact that he didn’t show that pissed me off the most—it’s the fact that he gave me his word.
I take people’s word for what they are; it shows me who they truly are. After years of not being honest with Bennett and finally speaking my mind, I vowed to myself to always be honest and say what I mean—show up for people who I give my word to.
We weren’t perfect, by any means, but there were some faults too with Bennett and him not giving me his word. I don’t really stay stuck in the past, but Lance’s actions tonight opened old wounds that were already stitched back, healed, and a faint scar.
No text. No call. Nothing.
Even though Morgan and Peyton showed, it didn’t feel the same. There were some pre-show jitters that I thought could easily dissipate with him if he arrived early enough, so that alone made me feel even more nervous. It made me even more worried about him and it lasted throughout the whole damn show. I kept glancing out to the audience from behind the curtain anytime I could to see if maybe he slipped into the audience, but no, his seat stayed vacant.
Peyton tried to console me after the show with a huge bouquet of flowers. I gave her a hug and smile, and then did the same with Morgan, before I told them that I just wanted to have the rest of the evening with myself. She offered to take me to dinner, but I kindly declined.
Driving home, I was still worried as hell alongside the anger that kept bubbling inside. Was he okay? I haven’t heard from him since yesterday and that wasn’t normal. I knew I should’ve listened to my gut and stopped by earlier today to see if his truck was on his property or something. Anything .
I briefly have the thought of trying to call him again, for the sixth time tonight, but I forgo it and head onto the driveway up to my place. That’s when I see it.
Christmas lights decking not only the trees around the property, but wrapped around the porch railing and the shrubs on the flowerbeds out front. This wasn’t my doing. I could only think of one person and he’s standing on the porch steps with a little white thing in his hands. I try to squint to see what he’s holding, but my headlights are too bright against the stark night and he’s still too far to make out. I kill the engine and hop out, finally taking in his truck on the side of my house.
“Hey,” he calls out. I walk to him and hike my bag up on my shoulder. My body is exhausted, as if it’s finally releasing all the work I did the last few weeks and stress from today.
I don’t answer him. How could I? I keep my head held high as I finally close the distance. That’s when I see the cutest little kitten in his hands, it's the same one from a few days ago. I don’t know why I thought it could’ve been a puppy, or like, an opossum. God, I’m blind.
I finally speak up, but not to him. “You’re back already?”
He steps closer and holds the kitten out toward me. I grab it softly, its meows filling the silence around us. It’s quick to want to be held even closer, so I oblige allowing it to crawl up on my chest and burrow its face into the crevice of my neck.
“Did you have time to bring her to the vet?” I finally ask, giving Lance a look. His face is full of concern and regret.
Good, he should feel bad.
“Yeah, she didn’t like it one bit.” He exhales a defeated breath, watching me for a reaction. We’re having a normal conversation about a kitty, yet there are so many undertones waiting to erupt.
I raise a brow. “Still no mama cat around?”
He shakes his head.
“I put out some food that night to see if she’d come around, but nothing.”
“Does she have a name?” The kitten meows and I caress her small body. She’s practically the size of my palm, has to be at least five weeks old.
Lance looks at me for a moment before smiling, digging his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. “Snowflake.”
My heart melts at the name and I coo at Snowflake like she’s my baby. I even do the damn motion of bouncing up and down to calm her and her meows start to die down.
“She’s perfect. White as snow, I’m glad you found her now before she got lost in the winter weather we’re sure to have.”
Lance doesn’t reply, he just looks at me and then his face goes back to that sulking expression. I sigh. Time to get this over with. He’ll probably yell a few things, I’ll argue back, and then we’ll either make up or hate each other for the rest of our days.
That’s what I’m so used to, it’s like second nature at this point. That’s all I know.
“I wanted to apologize,” he starts, and that surprises me, so I give him my full attention, despite my hands all over Snowflake. “It was a shit show today, I did my best to be there on time. Everything that could go wrong, did. I feel horrible and hope you know that I am a man of my word and it was like some damn force trying to disprove that.”
I shift my balance from one foot to another. “I looked for you. The whole night.”
He takes a step forward and I let him. I don’t back away. “My phone dropped in one of the horse's water buckets this morning before I could even check any texts. Work was even busier than I anticipated, so I had no time to stop by here or even get a new phone.”
“So why didn’t you show up to the recital? I thought you didn’t work that late,” I point out. To make myself feel better, I threw a dig at him. “Thought you might’ve passed out at The Lost Cowboy or something and forgot about me.”
The way he looks at me after is like I’ve stabbed him in the heart, twisting it to make it hurt. His brows scrunch and his pained expression makes me regret saying that.
“I’m not my father, Katherine.”
Fuck, I messed up. I went too far. I knew he wasn’t like his father, I just wanted him to feel the hurt I was in. But he wasn’t Bennett and I have to keep reminding myself that. It was so easy to fall into an argument with Bennett, throw a few insults at each other where it really hurt, then walk off with a pissed off temper and even more broken heart and marriage. Every dig we threw at each other chipped more and more into our relationship until there was nothing left to chip at.
He sighs and looks up at the dark sky, the stars and moon illuminating my property perfectly. The Christmas lights he put up help too, I guess. It’s like he’s attempting to find the right words to say. I half expect him to start spewing off insults and walking to his truck.
“I didn’t work late, Katherine. I had a few things I wanted to get before meeting you.”
“What was more important than your damn presence?” My words come out with a bite and I don’t really mean it, but the annoyance is starting to creep in again. Snowflake meows and I bet she can feel my increasing heart rate. I coo again and pet her bottom like a baby and she settles down again.
“This.” He motions to the lights around my house. “I was going to pick up all of these lights, a tree, and then some flowers if I had extra time. They were so busy though and took all that time. I should’ve left, but I promised myself that I’d get those things before your recital.”
“You didn’t have to,” I state plainly.
“You wanted a real tree,” he counters.
My eyes narrow and I look around my front yard for this ‘tree’. “Don’t see one, so I guess you’re not really a man of your word.”
That’s when he laughs . I stare at him incredulously. Is he really laughing right now? Guess I really did go too far and poked the bear a little too hard. And right now, I’m feeling more hurt for him. I shouldn’t have brought up his father. It’s a sore subject and I knew it enough to not say it. I was being petty, immature, and he didn’t deserve that.
He nods toward his truck and I turn around. “It’s in the bed. Didn’t want to break in to put it up, although I did consider that idea. Wanted to set it up for you and everything. Got some decorations so you could enjoy that part, though.”
“Shit,” I whisper. I turn to look back at him and all he’s giving me are calm and forgiving eyes. Not angry blue ones that I was so used to looking into.
God, I need to go back to therapy if I keep having these comparisons to my ex-husband. I’ve just never known anything else.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. I take a step closer to Lance and we’re cowboy boots to Uggs. I crane my neck to look into his beautiful eyes. “I’m so sorry I said that. I’m stressed and tonight didn’t go as planned. Not just because you didn’t show, but things didn’t work like they were supposed to and it felt like the rehearsal last night was useless.”
He doesn’t hesitate to lift a hand and gently hold my jaw, caressing my cheek with his thumb. The motion is so soft and delicate that it’s like a feather touch.
“It’s okay, Chestnut. We both had horrible days and it just wasn’t fair how the Universe wanted to torture us like this.”
I smile and he does too. “What’s with the nickname?” I finally ask. It’s been bothering me since the first time he called me that.
He stills, then smiles before shrugging. “Chestnut horses have rich red coats. Your hair reminds me of them.”
“A cowboy nicknaming me based on a horse’s coat color? That’s a new level achieved.”
“Not a cowboy.” He laughs.
I hold Snowflake closer to my chest and he glances down at her, dropping his hand from my face to scratch her behind her ears. She lets out the softest noise while purring like an engine in my hands. “She’s probably the best Christmas present I could get,” I admit.
“I’m glad you like her, but the tree was the present.” He laughs.
Oh .
A laugh escapes my lips. “Oops, I swear I’m happy about the tree too. I always wanted a real tree.”
“I know, I listen.”
He does, and I think I can get used to it.
“You’re not him, by the way,” I announce. “I’m sorry I said that. I get so caught up in my head that insults seem to be my immediate defense. You didn’t deserve that.”
“It’s okay,” he says softly.
“No, it’s not, Lance,” I say with a shake of my head. “You’re not him. You’re not his mistakes. And you shouldn’t be defined by his past, or your past, for that matter.”
His eyes soften and his chest heaves in a big motion and he looks up at the sky again and exhales. The colder air causes his breath to fog.
To push my apology even more, I tell him in one slow breath, “The past is not a definition of your now, never was.”
“How did I get so lucky?” he asks the sky. He then looks down and grabs my waist.
“I’m nowhere near a good luck charm, you might want to look elsewhere,” I joke, rolling my eyes.
He pulls me closer and my core hits his. Butterflies immediately flood my stomach. Not only have we apologized like mature adults, we’re willing to still be a support for each other. It’s new territory that I’m growing fond of. I really like it.
He leans in to kiss my nose and then leans back before he kisses my lips. My eyes are shut, soaking in the moment. When he finally pulls away, his blue eyes are sparkling and my heart skips a beat.
“Don’t need a good luck charm when we’ve got a mistletoe.”