Chapter 5
Kat
Lydia leans against my kitchen counter and looks out the window into the yard. Her takeout container is open on the countertop next to her and she pokes her fork into it, then scoops out another minuscule bite. “I’m going to miss this.”
“This restaurant is only good about half the time,” I joke, downplaying her somber mood.
“I’m going to miss you, Kat.”
She rolls her eyes at me and laughs, but I know the emotion behind her words is real. Realer than most things in my life, anyway. Some things turned out to be cruel jokes and I didn’t know until after the fact. C’est la vie, I suppose.
“I’m happy for you. I truly am.” I snag a wonton and add, “But I’m going to miss you like crazy.” I can’t even look her in the eye as I say it. Just in case some part of me decides to get weepy.
I know how much she’s wanted to go to college and how excited she is to start her new life.
Part of me actually considered leaving to stay with her, at her suggestion a few months back when she got her acceptance letter in the spring.
But … I don’t think my life is anything to dismiss, either.
My job at the flower shop is a good one, I love it even.
I have a kind boss and reasonable hours and I enjoy putting the orders together.
It’s meaningful, what I do, even if it is small.
It’s just not college. Lydia going off to college feels like another world away.
In reality, it’s only a two-hour ride on the train.
I know which ticket to buy to visit her and how long it’ll take to get there.
I even know some of the places we can check out when I visit.
We mapped it all out over a bottle of wine when we checked out the campus together.
In all honesty, I’ve never been so thrilled for her.
Lydia’s eyes were so bright when she took in the buildings.
With my fork halfway in the air, I cock a brow and ask with a smirk, “You sure you have to leave me all alone down here?”
She’s drinking wine with her takeout—we both are. I’m not drunk, but I feel the effects of the alcohol. Maybe that’s why I’m only thinking of Cill every five minutes. I’m aware it’s every five minutes because I can’t stop checking the clock. He texted me when he’d be home.
He said your place, rather than home.
I’ll be at your place around seven.
It’s six forty-five now.
With the cabernet sinking in sip by sip, I’m less nervous and more excited than I’ve been all day. Warm. A little bit calmer. Lydia takes another swallow of hers.
“I’m not leaving you alone.” She glances toward the stairs. “Am I?”
I can’t think of what to say to Lydia, so I grab the wine instead. I’m anxious with the thought of him in the house. Anxious, and attracted. Another sip down and I shrug, licking the sweet liquid from my lower lip.
All my feelings for him came back in a rush with that simple text message.
Thinking of him in that guest bedroom made it damn hard to settle down at night.
I’m not the kind of girl who tosses and turns over things she can’t control, but Cill?
He’s like a thunderstorm. I never know when he might break apart.
My gaze flicks to the clock again as I lean forward in anticipation. Shoving the food away, I can’t eat anymore with these butterflies.
He wants me. I don’t know everything and I have to tell him what happened. But the man I’ve always loved wants me and there’s still something there.
My only worry is that once I tell him what happened, or once he finds out, he’ll never look at me the same. But last night, that look he gave me …
“How did it go last night?” Lydia asks, bringing my attention back to her although she’s focused elsewhere. She’s watching out the window again.
“Not a peep from him after I showed him the room, and when I got up … he was gone.” I rub under my still sore eyes. I’m exhausted, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to bed until I see him.
“You sleep at all?”
“Not at all.” I can barely manage a fake smile. I don’t count those hours when I was half dreaming close to the morning. That wasn’t restful sleep.
“Kat,” she says, her tone scolding. “You have to rest. You can’t start losing sleep over—”
“I’ll be all right. Just getting used to things.
It was the first night.” And I didn’t know it was coming.
All things considered, things could have gone a lot worse.
Cill’s back home and he’s safe. I was safe in my house.
No one tried to break in. If losing a night of sleep is the worst that happens, I’ll be counting my blessings.
“You know,” Lydia says, “you are the one in control here. If you don’t want him here, you tell him that. He can find somewhere else to go.”
“I know.”
I understand the worry that lingers in her eyes. I do. I get it. But it’s Cill. And if there’s something there still, how could I possibly let that go?
I took it upon myself to be independent so that I’d never be caught off guard the way I was that night at the clubhouse.
No one would ever throw my life into disarray again.
But I know, right away, that I won’t kick Cill out of my house and I won’t say no if he wants me.
I don’t think I have that in me. Even if he is turning my emotions a bit upside down.
A bit—okay. Totally upside down.
“And …” She takes another small bite of her food. “If you don’t want to be with him, you don’t have to be.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re stuck and hopeless. And maybe like you’re a lovesick lost puppy.” Lydia softens her statement with a smile.
She’s right. I couldn’t even nap today. I spent an hour on the couch trying, but all I could think about was whether Cill would come back or whether he’d disappear out of my life again. I thought about his note. I thought about him … and then he texted me.
“It’s kind of insulting to my ego that a single text from a man can make me feel this way,” I admit out loud and, without my conscious consent, sneak a peek at the clock again.
Lydia snorts a laugh and pushes her hair out of her face, elbows on the table while dragging out the words, “Oh my God. You still love him!”
There’s that twist in my chest and the knowledge I have to tell him everything, but still I nod.
“So you’re a mess over him, even after four years?”
“Because I want him with me more than anything,” I admit. “But when he finds out what happened …” Emotion makes my throat close.
“So you haven’t told him?” Lydia questions.
“I betrayed him, Lydia.” The clock reads six fifty-five. “I honestly thought about texting him … and then hiding at your place.” A heavy exhale leaves me.
“He wasn’t here,” she tells me and I’m shocked by the hard tone she uses.
With my gaze trapped in hers mostly from shock, she repeats, “He wasn’t here and a lot happened.
He changed and so did you, and if he can’t understand that, it’s on him.
” Her swallow is audible when she finishes and she gives me a curt nod as if to ask, isn’t that right?
There’s a flop in my chest, one that’s dull and thuds on its own for a moment.
“How do I look him in the eye after he’s gone through hell and tell him what happened?” I’ve thought of it a million times, but even in my imagination, I open my mouth and no words come out.
“Kat.” Her voice goes soft and serious. Lydia puts down her fork and my stomach twists at the conversation I know is coming. “You aren’t the only one, and he needs to know—”
The front door rattles, then opens with a familiar creak. I jump, feeling guilty and caught, and barely manage to catch my wine before it sloshes all over my kitchen floor.
“We’re back,” Reed says. “You here?”
“In the kitchen,” Lydia calls out. With only a few steps Reed appears in the threshold, wearing his leathers, complete with a Celtic cross, and an easy smile. Until he sees me, and it slips for a moment.
Then there’s Cill … appearing right behind him and all that nervousness and fluttering and every emotion that I can’t control, it all comes up full force with no way to stop it.