Chapter 18 #2
I huff out a breath. “Kind of feels like it should have been harder?”
Her smile grows as she leans against the back of the couch, reaching down to unclasp her shoes. “I don’t know. I think Pastor Brown is really onto something with those counseling sessions. It takes a strong couple to make it through that shit.”
I hum out my agreement, watching as her fingers pull a thin strap from a silver buckle around her ankle.
Before I know it I’m moving, sinking down to a knee in front of her, my gaze rooted on the red lines of irritation that mar her skin.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask, my voice rougher than I mean for it to be.
When I raise my eyes to meet hers, dark curls curtain around her face, and I’m reminded for the hundredth time tonight that she’s without a doubt the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Say anything about what?” she asks, surprised.
I drop my gaze back to her ankle, lightly grazing a finger along the indentation from the strap.
“You were uncomfortable in these shoes, Ava.” Shit, I remember how Melody’s feet used to swell when she was pregnant with the boys, how Brooks would prop her feet up in his lap so he could rub the ache out of them.
Why wouldn’t Ava say something? Why wouldn’t she trade these godforsaken shoes for something more comfortable?
I glare at the steep slope of the heel, hating that she’d wear anything that would hurt her.
Making a mental note to buy her some slippers, I let my finger trail down her ankle and hear her suck in a small breath.
“It’s fine, Kasey. It’s not even that bad.”
I don’t believe her for a second.
Gingerly pulling the shoe away from her heel and off her toes, I let it fall to the floor before turning my focus to her other foot.
I loosen the strap around her ankle and find more welts and the start of a blister on the top of her foot that makes me see red.
“Fuck these goddamn shoes, Ava,” I grumble, pulling the second shoe off and dropping it next to the first.
When I grip the arch of her foot between my hands, I feel her resist, wanting to pull away from me.
But I sink my thumbs into the fleshy curve anyway, and the moan that comes out of her mouth nearly makes me see stars.
“Oh my god that feels so good,” she whispers, dropping her head back.
I circle my thumbs deep into her skin as my eyes trail down the column of her throat, skimming the low neckline of her dress.
“I really like that dress, you know,” I murmur as I keep working through a massage, letting the weight of her leg rest on my thigh.
“You do?” she asks, dropping her gaze back on me.
“Yeah.” I nod. “I do.”
She catalogs the jacket stretched over my shoulders and the loose tie at my neck. “I’ve never seen you in a suit,” she says, a smile playing on her lips. “It’s . . . weird.”
I bark out a laugh. “I tell you how much I like your dress and you tell me my suit is weird?”
Her smile widens. “The suit isn’t weird. It’s actually a very handsome suit,” she clarifies. “It’s weird seeing you wear it.”
“It’s the first time I’ve worn one,” I admit. “Even for Brooks’s wedding, we all wore pearl-snaps and jeans.”
Ava giggles, nodding. “I think that’s what I expected to see,” she says. “But I guess that wouldn’t match the whole southern-church-vibe we had going.”
I gently set her foot down on the floor before picking up the other again, searching out her pressure points. She doesn’t moan this time, but her eyes roll back in her head, and it makes me instantly hard. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she says around a contented sigh.
“What the hell was with that cake?”
A loud laugh booms out of her, and it makes my heart pound.
“I don’t know.” She throws a hand over her face, as if to hide from me.
“Layla and I went to the bakery and she and Luna were so excited to build this dream wedding cake and I just couldn’t do it.
I think I got spooked. So I told Luna to replicate the sheet cake she made for Maeve’s granddaughter’s birthday. ”
I rumble out a laugh as I set her foot down, rising to stand in front of her. I gently tug her hand away from her face, forcing her to look up at me. “Why’d you get spooked?” I ask.
She sighs. “They were talking about tiers and cake toppers, and I just couldn’t say yes to any of it. I couldn’t even picture what I might want if this were real. I don’t know . . . I just needed to make an order and get out of there.”
I nod, understanding. And then I decide to test a theory. “It’s hard to make arrangements for something when you know it’s just pretend,” I say. “When you don’t actually want any of it.” I pinch the fabric of her dress between my fingers before slowly sliding my hand up her waist.
“Kasey,” she whispers, her eyes falling closed. “What are you doing?” But she makes no effort to pull away.
“Touching you,” I answer simply, letting my fingers drag along the top of her shoulder.
“Why?” she pleads.
I lean closer, eyes locked on the diamond and pearl pin in her hair.
“Tell me you don’t want this.” The air crackles around us, the hair on my neck standing as shivers crawl down my spine.
“Kasey,” she whines.
“Go ahead, sugar,” I breathe, baiting her. “Lie to me. Tell me this doesn’t mean anything, that today didn’t mean anything to you. Tell me you still think you’re better off without me.”
“No,” she objects, her eyes opening to sink into mine.
“God, is that what you think? That’s not what I meant at all.
” My pulse thrums so wildly I feel it reverberate through my throat.
“I don’t think I’m better off without you,” she continues, squirming against me, those stunning sapphire eyes sparking in the dark.
She smells like apples from the cider I gave her, and I want to take a bite. “It’s you who’s better off without me.”
The words wrap around me and squeeze tight. Everything goes still, and I have to rein in a dark, bitter laugh. “You don’t see it, do you?” I ask, voice rough. “You really don’t see how much I’ve always loved you.”
A tear slips out of her eye, sliding down her cheek. I brush it away with a swipe of my thumb. “I do,” she admits.
I shake my head. “No, you don’t, because if you did, you’d know I could never be better off without you, Ava. Ever.” I reach out and clutch a piece of her hair, wrapping it around my fist. “You know what I think?”
Her eyes shutter closed again as I tug her head back, her mouth going slack. “What?”
“I don’t think you would have left,” I say.
“If you’d stayed back then, if you’d married me, you’d never have left, Ava.
We’d still be together. We’d probably fight every goddamn day and you’d drive me out of my mind, but you would have stayed.
” I let my open mouth trail lightly along her jaw. “You know how I know that?”
She keeps her eyes closed, but I see the way her skin pinches between her brows, the way her lips press tight. “How?” she whispers.
“Because you’re not your mother.”
Her eyes fly open, the surprise in them obvious enough to know I’ve hit the bull’s-eye.
I let my gaze roam her face, soaking in the soft skin of her cheeks, the curve of her nose.
The slope of her lips and the way she keeps them parted.
“You looked beautiful today,” I say, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering against her skin for far too long before finally pulling back.
And then just like I did the last time she was here, I disappear inside my room and leave my new wife alone in the dark.