Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
After a restless night peppered with nightmares and very little sleep, Kenny awoke feeling groggy and out of sorts.
For a few moments she just lay in her queen-sized bed, head buried beneath a lightweight summer comforter, considering how catastrophically her world had shifted in the last twenty-four hours.
Smith was leaving her.
Despite expecting this very outcome for nearly the entirety of their marriage, Kenny couldn’t quite believe it had come to this. Now that the moment had arrived, it felt surreal, unwarranted.
Unfair.
In her fear of becoming too attached and getting hurt, she had unintentionally alienated her husband. This was her fault. She could have been more…forthcoming. She knew that. Accepted the lion’s share of the blame. But she wanted another shot at their marriage.
A do-over. It was childish. Irrational. And Kenny was usually unfailingly pragmatic.
Her brain told her to accept the inevitable, absorb the unexpected pain of it, and move on with her life.
But her stubborn pride refused to fail at anything. And her heart, which she’d believed so well defended, ached at the thought of losing a man she’d never really considered hers.
He’d been adamant last night. Unyielding. Gruff and brutally honest. But Kenny hoped that resolve had softened somewhat overnight. Perhaps he’d be more open to talking today.
The thought of opening herself up, dropping her defenses and allowing him unfettered access to her unguarded heart, absolutely terrified her. What if she revealed to him her every vulnerability, showed him the real McKenna, and he still found her lacking and left anyway?
That crippling fear of rejection, fueled by an insecurity which many who thought they knew her would find utterly shocking, was foremost on her mind as she lay on her back and stared at the vaulted ceiling.
It was the reason her entire body felt numb and incapable of movement.
Sheer self-preservation kept her in place for excruciatingly long moments.
“It’s going to be fine,” she whispered, her vision blurring as she continued to stare at the ceiling.
The summer sun, which had risen at least three hours ago, made her room too bright, too damned cheerful.
She was usually an early riser and, as such, did not bother with blackout curtains, so the light was filtered only by sheer white curtains gently billowing on a soft breeze that cooled the room, courtesy of the open window.
Kenny shifted her gaze and stared at the top of the pom pom tree planted directly beneath her second-floor window.
It had started blooming a few weeks ago and the fluffy, pale pink flowers reminiscent of the pom-poms from which it derived its name, gave the tree a candy floss appearance.
Kenny usually enjoyed seeing it first thing in the morning, but today the whimsical beauty of the tree barely registered, as she lay there, her body frozen and her stomach twisted into painful knots.
She had to move and get downstairs to try and talk with him. Smith was also an early riser. Even following a night of excesses, he was usually up at dawn for a run, after which he’d hit a few balls around the court.
He was pretty talented at tennis. He enjoyed watching it, played regularly, and practiced hitting every day on the private court. His hands were rough and calloused from years of daily practice.
One of Smith’s only stipulations when they were choosing a house was that it have a tennis court.
His passion for the sport was something she hadn’t really known about him before their marriage. There were a lot of things she hadn’t known about him, she thought with a pang of regret. A lot of things she still didn’t know about him.
Kenny had always enjoyed surreptitiously watching as he slammed practically every ball spat at him from the machine across the court.
His movements were always so smooth and graceful.
It was the only reason she had her breakfast on the patio every day.
Of course, she’d always pretended to be busy with some device or the other.
She had been so concerned he’d think she was spying on him, or worse, interested in him.
Now she wondered what he would have done if she’d allowed him to see how truly fascinating she found him. How much she enjoyed watching him. Just being with him.
It was time to stop being so afraid. Kenny only hoped it wasn’t too late.
Smith was gone.
Kenny was forced to acknowledge this painful truth an hour later, after she’d scoured the house for him. Even after she’d seen the half empty closet in his room and the lack of toiletries in his bathroom, she’d wandered from room to room, vainly hoping to find him still in the house.
The only place still unchecked was the small room attached to the master suite, which they’d both agreed would be the best place for a nursery.
She reluctantly opened the door and stepped into the room she hadn’t ventured into at all since her miscarriage.
They’d only been in the beginning stage of decorating it.
A few items of furniture, still wrapped in plastic, stood against the far wall.
The massive teddy bear, nearly three feet tall, that Smith had given Kenna the day he’d proposed was perched on the comfortable rocking chair in front of the picture window.
She gazed at the bear, bittersweet memories of that day floating into her brain. He’d shown up at her former apartment, disheveled and nervous, with a hesitant smile lifting the corners of his beautifully shaped mouth.
Eighteen Months Ago
The bear was awkwardly tucked under one arm and Smith nearly dropped it as he rooted around in his pockets with his free hand. After awkwardly shifting the bear to his other arm, he finally found what he’d been hunting for.
A dark blue velvet box.
Kenny stared at it in confusion as he held it up and dropped to his knee in the same motion. The bear dislodged from beneath his arm and bumped against her shins. The unexpected solidity and weight of the stuffed toy caught her off guard and unbalanced her a little.
She stumbled and he leaped instantly to his feet to steady her with his hands, an embarrassed flush highlighting his sharp cheekbones.
“Fuck. I’m making a mess of this,” he muttered after they’d both regained their balance.
He was standing very close to her, warm hands clamped around her upper arms and despite her height, Kenny still managed to get a crick in her neck as she tilted her head to look up at him.
The difference between her five foot ten and his six foot three felt much greater than a mere five inches with his solid, muscular bulk invading so much of her personal space.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Trying to propose.” His response was dry, then his eyes widened in comical horror before he said, “Fuck, where’s the…”
He thankfully released her arms and stared wildly down at the floor before releasing a shaky breath and bending to retrieve the box that had fallen from his hand when he’d reached for her.
“Nana Pat—my mother’s mum—must be rolling in her grave right now,” he told her with a lopsided, self-effacing grin that charmed Kenny in spite of herself.
He flipped the lid of the box to reveal a delicate and obviously vintage pale gold band showcasing a beautiful pear-cut diamond, haloed by a constellation of smaller diamonds.
Kenny knew that her appalled reaction to the lovely ring was far from flattering as she staggered a few steps back.
“But why?” The question flew unbidden from her lips and she winced at the panicked pitch in her voice.
His smile disappeared almost instantly, even though it still lingered in his gentle eyes.
“I know it’s not anything like how you may have imagined your marriage proposal would go,” he said, laughter lurking in his voice. “But—”
“I hadn’t imagined a proposal at all,” she interrupted, her eyes dropping back to the ring.
He faltered for a moment, before clearing his throat and continuing, “But the way I see it, marriage was a given. The baby has just accelerated the timetable a little.”
It didn’t surprise her that he’d always intended to marry at some point. He was warm, affectionate…the kind of man who would relish having a family.
Kenny, meanwhile, had never really believed that she would marry. And hadn’t even considered the possibility of children. And yet, when she discovered her pregnancy, she’d immediately known she was keeping her baby.
She now felt horribly guilty that Smith believed that this pregnancy had stripped him of his choice of bride. He shouldn’t be offering his grandmother’s engagement ring to her. Not when it was clearly meant for the woman he would one day love and with whom he’d want to start a family.
“You don’t have to marry me, Smith,” she told him, and this time the smile faded from his eyes.
“I know I don’t have to,” he said, shrugging. “I want to.”
“Because of the pregnancy?”
His head tilted, and his jaw tightened as he stared at her for a long, long moment.
“Sure,” he said, his voice had dropped, and the tone he now used sounded like something one would implement when taming a particularly skittish horse. “Let’s have a seat and talk this through, yeah?”
Kenny blinked and glanced around, suddenly realizing that they were both standing in the middle of her living room.
“Oh, yes,” she nodded, happy to focus on something so mundane. “Of course. That makes sense.”
He pocketed the little blue box in a move that would have been discreet, if Kenny hadn’t been so damned hyperaware of the thing’s existence since the moment he’d produced it.
She heaved a silent sigh of relief at its disappearance.
Something he didn’t miss, if the thinning of his lips was any indication.
She sank down onto the sofa. Then instantly regretted her seating choice when he carefully placed the bear on the wingback chair to her left, and sat down on the couch beside her.