39. Wentworth
THIRTY-NINE
Wentworth
BY THE TIME I HAD THE SITUATION HANDLED, KAIT WAS gone. I spent the next hour and a half combing the place for her. When the countdown to midnight started, I was convinced I’d find her with some other guy’s tongue in her mouth and then I’d go to jail.
Because if I saw some other guy with his mouth on my wife, I’d fucking murder him.
Kait’s not your wife. She hasn’t been your wife for a long time. She left you, remember?
How the fuck could I forget?
Just when it became obvious that Kait did what Kait does, and left—Patrick calls last call. Planting myself outside the door, I watch closely while people pour out onto the sidewalk, looking into the face of every dark-haired woman that walks by.
None of them are her.
Maybe the woman you saw wasn’t even her. Maybe the fact that you’ve been obsessively drawing her for the last six years has finally got you seeing shit. Maybe you just wanted to see her because the thought of another fucking year without knowing what went wrong was too much for you to handle.
Bullshit.
It was her.
I know it was.
As soon as the bar is empty and its patrons are poured into cars with their designated drivers or safely tucked into one of the Ubers or Lyfts waiting curbside, I went back inside
“I’m hungry,” Tess says to no one in particular while she wipes down tables.
“Sorry, Tessie,” Conner says from behind the bar. “I’ve got pancakes waiting for me at home.”
When he says it, Tess scowls at him. “Well, that doesn’t help me, now does it?”
“Tell it to your man,” Conner says on a laugh. “I relinquished my feeding duties when you two started bumping uglies again.”
“You’re gross,” she shoots back before looking at me. “You don’t have to stick around. If Grace wants to go to Benny’s, Dec and I can take her home after.”
Before I can answer her, Grace pipes up from the pool tables. “Did anyone see what happened to Kaitlyn? She said she was going to the bathroom but she never came back. I just figured she hooked back up with her friends but?—”
“She didn’t,” Tess tells her. “She left before midnight. Tore out of here like her hair was on fire.”
“She left?” Frowning, Grace reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her phone and starts to text while my heart hammers in my chest and my mouth goes dry.
“Who’s Kaitlyn?” I say, looking at Tess.
“Kaitlyn… Ryan’s nurse.” Tess looks at me like I just asked the stupidest question she’s ever heard. “You’ve never met her?”
“No.” I shake my head, ears ringing. “I don’t think so.” I’m about to ask Tess what this Kaitlyn looks like or if she knows her last name, but before I can ask, Grace approaches while shoving her phone back into her pocket.
“She’s okay—she said she was feeling claustrophobic and went home.” Still frowning, Grace shakes her head. “I asked her if she wanted to come to breakfast with us—I even offered to have Went come get her but she said she’s already in bed.” Looking up at me, the frown on Grace’s face softens. “You can go home if you want—Tess and Declan will make sure I get home… unless you want to come.”
Fifteen minutes ago, going home was all I wanted to do. Go home and try to wrap my head around the fact that Kait isn’t in Montana, living the life of a rancher’s wife, married to that piece of shit, Brock Morris. That when she left, Kait didn’t run back home, away from the unknown.
No, she just ran away from me.
Shaking my head, I push a grin onto my face. “I could eat.”
I’VE LEARNED A LOT ABOUT MY EX-WIFE OVER THE LAST few hours.
I learned that she goes by Kaitlyn now and that she was one of Ryan’s nurses at the facility he lived in when he first came home. I learned that she was one of the only nurses willing to work with him because of his behavior. That she was tough but kind and not afraid to plant her foot in Ryan’s ass when he needed it. That’s why Henley approached her with the job offer a few months ago to be his private nurse. The job came with perks—an apartment across the hall from Ryan at the veteran’s center and a car, on top of a pretty healthy salary. According to Grace, she’s single and doesn’t go out all that much, her only real social activity being Sunday dinners at Conner and Henley’s.
Oh—and I found out that she and Conner used to see each other.
According to her, it was never anything serious. They met for coffee a few times and that was about it. Whatever it was, it was over as soon as Hen came home.
As much as I want to believe it, I don’t. I can’t because I know Conner. Before Henley came home, he didn’t date women. He didn’t see them—he fucked them and if he’d been sitting there with us, giving me his side of the story over a plate of 3AM pancakes, it wouldn’t have mattered either way. I would’ve ripped his throat out before he even had a chance to say a word.
Bit hypocritical, don’t you think considering your relationship with Tess. Kait divorced you and moreover, you let her. Gave her up and let her walk away without a fight. That means you’re both free to do what you want with whoever you want.
Logically, I know that.
But logic has nothing to do with the way I’m feeling right now.
After breakfast, I took Grace home, even though Declan offered to do it for me. Sitting in the parking lot, watching Grace open the back door, she gives me a wave before shutting it between us. Even though I’ve done my duty and she’s safe, I don’t drive away. I can’t. All I can do is stare up at the building Grace just disappeared into and wonder which of its windows belongs to Kait. Before I can figure it out and commit a felony, I force myself to put my car into gear and drive away. On the way home, I formulate a plan.
Even though no one invited me, I decide I’m going to show up at Con’s house on Sunday for dinner and do my best not to kill him while I wait for Kait to show up. What I’m going to do after that is up for debate and completely depends on if she tries to run from me again because I let her get away the last time. I’ll be fucked if I let her do it again.
Half ass plan formed, I pull into the portico in front of the Hawthorne and shift my ride into park. As soon as he sees me, the valet on duty hustles across the sidewalk and rounds the front of the car while I open my door. “Welcome home, Mr. Hawth—” when I nail him to the concrete with a what the fuck did you just call me glare, he faulters. “Sorry, sir.”
Feeling like a dick, I toss him my keys. “It’s fine,” I tell him, even though it isn’t. I’m angry and tired and just want to get upstairs so I can shower and go to bed.
That’s what I want to do but it’s not what I’m going to do.
I know that.
I know that as soon as the elevator spits me out on the top floor, I’m going to head straight to my workspace, I’m going to sit down and I’m going to do what I’ve been doing for the last six years.
I’m going to draw Kait.
At first, I was able to tell myself that it was cathartic. My way of working her out of my system. Finding some sort of closure. Six years later, I know it’s a lie. That every time I put my memories and fantasies of her on paper, I’m just digging her in deeper. That I’ll never work Kait out of my system. That no matter how long and hard I work at deluding myself, I’ll never be able to let her go.
“Mr. Fiorella?”
Passing by the concierge counter, I look up to find Natalie watching me like she’s been waiting for me to show up. Before I can ask her what’s going on, she tells me.
“There was a young woman here, looking for you about an hour ago,” she says, her tone low, even though it’s 4AM and the lobby is deserted.
Even though I know who it was, I ask for confirmation. “Did she leave her name or say what it as about?”
“No…” Natalie shakes her head before darting her gaze past me, at one of the many conversations areas that populate the lobby. “But she didn’t leave . She’s waiting for you, right over there.” Frowning, her hand hovers above her desk phone. “I was going to call security but I thought maybe I should wait and?—”
“No. I’ll take care of it.” Shaking my head, I give her what I hope to God look like a reassuring smile, “Thanks, Nat.” Turning away from the front desk, I make my way over to the grouping of large, upholstered chairs she indicated—they’re all empty except the one in front of me. Rounding the back of it, I look down and see her. Curled up in a ball, her cheek resting on the arm of the chair, eyes closed. She fell asleep waiting for me.
Tell Nat you changed your mind. Tell her to call security and have them escort her out of the hotel and tell her not to come back.
It’s what I should do.
The smartest and safest course of action because this woman fucked me up and I know with every fiber of my being that if I let her in again, she’s going to do it again… but smart and safe have never been my watchwords.
Not when it comes to Kaitlyn Barrett.
“ Fucking stupid …” I mutter it, right before I stoop down to lift her out of the chair. The second I get my hands on her, it all comes rushing back, every thought and feeling. Every want and need. All of it tied to her.
Because I’m still in love with her.
Because I’ll never not be in love with her.
Resigned, I carry her to the elevator and take her home.