Chapter 12 Mckenna
TWELVE
MCKENNA
With the bar exam quickly approaching, I force myself to focus on studying more than this fucked-up situation with Bran.
Even though a crew works next store at Mav’s place daily, noise-canceling headphones do the trick and I’m able to immerse myself in test prep.
During my breaks, I exchange emails with the lawyers Dad hired. However, given the time crunch I’m under to take the exam, I’ve asked Dad and Mav to oversee the initial conversations with the legal team.
I think it shows growth. A handful of months ago, I would have been furious with them. But now, knowing I’m making the choice, I’m relieved to ask for their support. I trust that they’ll keep me looped in but not overwhelm me.
I spend my days with my nose buried in books and my nights hanging out with Mav, poring over paint samples and choosing kitchen cabinet hardware.
Will we live in that brownstone by this time next year? Will I plant a garden in the back? Or buy new bedding for the master bedroom? Or paint the cozy little bedroom yellow for a future nursery?
I shake my head, the thought nearly as alarming as the soft smile that crosses my face when I think it.
I’m one week away from the biggest exam of my life, still married to a rockstar, and debating pressing charges against the man who attacked me. The last thing I should be doing is envisioning a nursery for a fictional baby in a home I don’t own.
“Jesus, you’re delusional,” I mutter to myself, slamming my textbook shut. Clearly, I need a break.
As I wander to the espresso machine for a caffeine hit, my phone rings.
“Are you back in Boston?” I answer Allegra’s call. She and Derek flew to LA for a conference.
“Miss me?”
“Always.”
“I wish I was but we’re still in LA. I just wanted to check in on you.”
“I’m still at the kitchen table, studying,” I admit, fixing myself a latte.
“In ten days from now, this will all be behind you,” she says soothingly.
“That’s one way of looking at it,” I admit. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Derek and I are trying a new restaurant tonight that Ivy recommended.”
I smirk. “Is the chef the hot guy she’s social media stalking?”
Allegra laughs. “Correct! But I didn’t tell Derek that part.”
“Naturally.”
“How’s all by you? Besides studying, how’s…life? Mav?”
I take a sip of my latte and consider Allegra’s question. “Things are…good,” I admit. “I’ve been avoiding campus since I saw Bran.”
“I can’t believe he’s back in town.”
“I know. But studying at home relieves the anxiety of having to think about what I would do or how I would react if I ran into him.”
“Fair.”
“And with Mav being either here or next door, I still get out of the house every day.”
“Any news from the lawyers?”
“Nothing yet. Mav and Dad have been navigating the initial talks until I’m done with the bar. Honestly, Mav’s been a godsend. I don’t know how I’d get through this without him.”
“You’re stronger than you think, Kenny. But Mav will always be there for you and it’s okay to lean on him.”
“I know. And I am.”
“Good,” Allegra says. “So, I guess it’s safe to say you’re not coming back to LA?”
“I was always planning to take the Massachusetts bar first.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she quips.
Sighing, I admit, “I’d like to get a job here and stick around Boston.”
Allegra cackles. “Trust me, I always knew that. Ivy, Nova, and I bet on it.”
I roll my eyes. “Who won?”
“Ivy,” we say in unison. That girl can’t resist a bet and her instincts are good.
“She said you’d be back with Mav before the exam date,” Allegra shares.
“Seriously? Ivy’s slipping. Mav and I got back together way before the bar.”
Allegra snickers. “We’ll still let her win. Ten more days, Kenny.”
Ten more days.
The weird thing about the bar exam is that after I complete it, I have no clue how I performed. At all.
I either aced the shit out of it or I failed spectacularly.
A year ago, the not knowing would have set me into an emotional spiral. But, and I suppose this is some of the silver lining, the emotional cocktail of the last year has prepared me for times of uncertainty.
So, instead of stressing about it, I take a second to acknowledge that while there is a chance I failed the exam, there is nothing I can do about it now except wait for my results. Then, I close that mental loop. I have bigger things to think about.
Like pressing charges against Bran and getting him out of my life, out of my city, hell, out of Massachusetts.
And my relationship with Maverick. The rock I’ve clung to over the past year, the guy I can count on, the husband who still holds my heart.
I’m ready to start our future together. In fact, I can’t wait.
Opening the gate to the brownstone, I grin when I spot Mav, sitting on the top step, a to-go cup from Java House and a brown paper bag beside him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, walking closer.
“Bringing you a celebratory latte or an emotional binge-worthy bag of chocolate chip cookies.”
I laugh, leaning down to kiss his cheek before sitting on the step below him. I glance up. “Can I have both?”
“Of course,” he chuckles.
I pluck a cookie out of the bag and take a big bite. “I either passed with flying colors, or I got a zero.”
He clucks his tongue. “I doubt you got a zero. I think you get credit for spelling your name correctly.”
I shake my head. “I’m pretty sure that’s the SATs.”
“Ah,” he remarks, passing me the latte to wash down the chocolate chip cookie. “Do you have plans tonight?”
I bite the corner of my mouth as I shake my head.
“Will you have dinner with me? We can celebrate the end of your studying marathon.”
“I’d love to.” A thrill rolls through me at the dinner invitation. At the chance for Maverick and me to take our relationship public.
“One rule?” Mav asks.
“What is it?”
“We enjoy tonight. We celebrate you taking the exam. We don’t talk about Bran. For one night, we’re just a regular couple, out for a milestone celebration.”
I bite the corner of my mouth. Can we do that? Can we not talk about Bran?
“Just one night, Mckenna. Tomorrow, we go all in on this shit with Bran. On meeting with the legal team. On everything. But…” He sighs, “Can we have tonight?”
Seeing the hope in his eyes causes me to rock forward and kiss him. “Yes. I’d love to have one nice, normal dinner out with you. A real date.”
“Good,” Mav breathes, kissing me back.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, watching passersby on the street, listening to the nearby traffic, relaxing under the warmth of the sun.
“Do you think this will ever be our everyday normal?” he asks after a moment, his voice quiet.
My eyes flicker to his, my chest tightening. “I want it to be.”
The corners of his mouth tick upward. “Me too, Mckenna. I dream about it.” Then, he stands from the step, runs his hand over the back of my hair, and grins. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He locks the wrought-iron gate and exchanges a few words with Drew who’s loitering nearby.
“See you then,” I agree, taking a sip of my latte.
But I don’t go inside after he leaves. Instead, I remain on the steps of the porch and think about Mav’s question.
I wonder what our life together will look like now that we’re truly embracing our marriage.
I envision slow Sunday mornings with pancakes and warm maple syrup.
I recall the vibrant Christmas tree we decorated last year and consider the additional holiday decor we can add with each subsequent Christmas.
I picture traveling with Mav, seeing his place in Costa Rica, and meeting his mom in Indonesia.
Pulling in a breath, I hold it in my chest as a version of my future beckons. For many years, the goal was to graduate law school. Then, pass the bar exam. And now…
Now, the goal is to feel fulfilled. Satisfied. Happy.
“Fancy.” I smirk as Mav holds open the door to The Ivy, a highly-sought-after, make-reservations-weeks-in-advance culinary institution in Boston.
“I haven’t taken you on nearly enough dates,” Mav murmurs as I slip through the door. He nods to a man standing nearby and I clock the additional bodyguard.
Even though we’re not talking about Bran, Mav informed me before we arrived that Drew swept through the restaurant and hired extra security for the evening.
We chat with the hostess, are guided to a private, cozy table, and take our seats.
Then, we pick up our menus and stare at each other, our eyes holding, our lips quirking into smiles.
“What?” he breaths out, breaking the silence.
“Nothing,” I giggle back. But I’m caught up in the energy of this evening. In the lighthearted playfulness that crests over the serious foundation at the center.
He grins. “I miss that sound.”
“I’m happy we’re out,” I say at the same time.
He dips his head. “I am too. I’m happy we’re…back.” He tilts his head as if asking for my confirmation.
I give it quickly. “We’re back, Mav. We’re…well, maybe we’re even in a better place now than we’ve ever been before.”
His hand covers mine and he brushes his fingertips over my knuckles. “Good.”
And we continue to stare at each other like two love-drunk fools on a first date until the server comes by our table and drags us from our staring contest.
“Good evening, folks. I’m Sabrina and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Can I start you off with some drinks?”
“Absolutely,” Mav says, glancing at me.
I close my menu. “I’ll have a virgin margarita.”
Mav’s eyes flare with surprise and a glint of amusement. “I’ll take the same.”
“All right,” Sabrina says, leaving our table.
“So, what’s with the virgin margaritas?” Mav asks.
“I want to support you the same way you’re supporting me, Mav. We don’t need alcohol to have fun.”
He chuckles. “Thank you. And you’re right, I always have fun with you.”
I snort.
“I’m serious,” he says. “You bring out the best in me.” He wrinkles his nose. “And maybe sometimes the worst.”
“Well, that’s honest.”
“I’m always that.”
Sabrina drops off our margaritas and Mav and I order a ridiculous number of appetizers.
“Think of it like a sampler,” Mav explains to a befuddled Sabrina.
Once she leaves, he holds up his glass.
“To you, my beautiful wife.”
I clink my glass against his. “To us, Mav.”
“To us,” he repeats.
Then, we take a sip of our drinks, our eyes catching over the rims, and I finally know, deep down, that everything is going to be okay.