38. Chapter 38
Kylie
Erik’s shoulders shake, his breath trembling as he buries his face against my neck.
“Shh.” I draw small circles over his back and run my fingers through his hair.
I don’t envy him. What he’s going through is a lot.
Even on the sidelines, it’s draining, because I worry about him, I can’t imagine how he feels going through everything.
“You did it,” I whisper into his ear, and his hug only tightens.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but makes no effort to let me go.
I lovingly tap the back of his head. “Don't apologize. Not for this.”
“Is there anything I should apologize for?” His voice is muffled by my oversized sweatshirt.
“For not letting me tag along. For being a little hypocrite.”
“A hypocrite?” He draws back and stares at me with red-rimmed eyes, narrowed in confusion.
“Yeah. You always tell me to stop apologizing.” I lay my hands on his cheeks and wipe his tears away with my thumbs. “This is the part where you eat your words.”
“I guess I am.” He chuckles and softly shakes his head. “Can’t recommend it.”
Abby sits next to us, head tilted, clearly confused by Erik not properly greeting her.
“How about we make dinner, and while we eat, you tell me every detail? From the moment you set foot in her store to the moment the door closed behind you.” It's less of a question and more of a demand, because I’ve been sitting on hot coals all afternoon wondering how it went.
“It sounds like the perfect way to spend the evening.”
“Good.” I climb off his lap, only to immediately be replaced by Abby, finally demanding her pets.
“Hey!” He tries to dodge her tongue semi-successfully. “Go ahead, Kylie. I'll be right there.” No. He won’t be.
For a moment, I watch the two of them. Abby is clearly infatuated with Erik, which I'm taking as a good sign. Same, girl. And he’s just as infatuated, cuddling with her and talking in a hushed voice. I shake my head at them and trudge over to my kitchen. It’s ridiculous how well they get along.
My fridge reveals, pasta with tomato sauce is on the menu tonight. And I need to make a trip to the grocery store.
I'm about to chop one of the onions when my phone starts buzzing on the counter. It's probably Gabriella trying to find out how things are going. But alas.
As soon as I turn my phone around to look at the screen, my mood takes a nosedive. My mother has the worst timing. Nonetheless, I answer. I still have a bone to pick with her about giving Zach my new address.
“Hi, Mom.”
“There you are!” she exclaims, immediately accusatory, “What does it take to get you on the phone nowadays?”
“If this conversation is going to consist of you scolding me, I'm hanging up.” I’m already pulling the phone away from my ear.
“Wait.” I put it back to my cheek. “Why do you always have to be so confrontational?”
I don't dignify her question with an answer.
“I'm calling to see how things went with Zach.”
I lean my free hand on the counter and let my head drop. Take a deep breath, Kylie. She means well. She means well. I repeat it in my head like a mantra, but even after ten times, I can’t find it in myself to believe it.
“Things are not going anywhere, Mother.” My voice is ice and my shoulders tense with anger.
“But why not? He got fired. Now he has all the time for you. You should be happy.”
“Let me make sure I get this right. I should be happy he was fired?”
Now, working in marketing and having to make sure no message can be misinterpreted, you get somewhat used to finding hidden, obscure meanings in words. But her little guilt trip kills me.
“I mean, why aren't you? First you complain about him not spending any time with you, and now that he has time, you're not happy either.”
“We are divorced, mother.”
Erik trails into the kitchen and shoots me a confused look. I softly shake my head and point at my phone. He nudges me aside and takes note of the ingredients on the counter. Without a word, he starts chopping the onion and motions for me to go into the living room.
“You can still find your way back to each other! Annul the divorce and go back to your marriage like you promised before God.”
“I have a boyfriend, Mother,” I hiss into the phone once I'm on my couch, watching Erik cook. “I have zero interest in getting back together with Zach.”
“You have what?” she shrieks so loudly I have to pull the phone away from my ear.
“A boyfriend,” I shout into the phone just as loudly. Wow. That was aggressive, but the truth nonetheless.
Erik glances up, first in surprise, then the words register and once he meets my eyes, both of our faces pull into a grin. It's the first time I've called him my boyfriend to his face, and saying it out loud still feels a lot more meaningful than just thinking it.
“Oh dear.” Here we go. I close my eyes and prepare myself for the inevitable rant. “I cannot believe you, Kylie. You're going against the holy sacrament—”
“Mother, may I just remind you that you are on husband number three?” Erik hides laughter with a cough.
“I have repented. Marriage is a holy connection.”
“Oh, then it's all fine.” I roll my eyes and jump up to pace my living room. “I'll jump into a church real quick and do a bunch of repenting. Will you get off my back then?”
“Kylie, you are making a joke of God.”
I stop in front of my ceiling-high window, staring at my confused expression in the glass. “I quite literally said I was going to repent.”
“But you don't sound like you mean it.”
“Did you? Just to freshen up your memory, the reason you divorced Dad is because you were having an affair. That's twice the repentance you have to do.” I cross my arm over my chest, eyebrows furrowing into a frown.
“Kylie—”
“And I'm pretty sure you've lied to me before. About Santa, for example. Have you repented all of those? How about your second divorce?”
“You can't just—”
“Yes I can. I asked you to leave me the hell alone about my divorce countless times. And what do you do? Send Zach here. I have enough of your meddling.”
“Kylie, I—”
What can I even do? Cut contact with my mother? She will make that everyone's problem. I'm not ready to deal with a freak-out of such a scale at the moment. And then I get an idea.
“Mother, if you keep pestering me about this, I will convert to satanism.”
She gasps. “Kylie, you—”
“Hey, look on the bright side. If I'm a Satanist, maybe I'll get a special place in hell. Maybe we'll run into each other.”
“Why can't you—”
“I mean it, mother.” All I hear on the line are her heavy breaths. Disappointment washes over me. Is my non-existent marriage all she cares about? Guess I won’t know unless I ask. “Do you really have nothing else to talk to me about aside from Zach? How was the vacation you and Thomas went on?”
“I am trying to save you—”
And there is my confirmation. “From hell. Yes, I know, you’ve made it more than clear. And I've made it more than clear I don’t want you to. Maybe I like the prospect of a warm and toasty afterlife. Last chance, how was your vacation?”
“Never mind about my vacation.”
“Okay, then I'm hanging up now, mother.” Fingers tapping against the crease of my elbow, I let out a deep sigh. “And I'm serious. One more call about my divorce, and satanism it is.”
Before she can answer, I hang up.
“Is everything okay?” Erik nods at my phone and tilts his head in worry.
“That was only my meddling mother.” I put the phone on silent and set it on the counter screen-down, knowing she’ll ring me about five more times until she gives up.
“Parents, huh? Hate them, love them, even through the stupid shit.”
“Amen.” As much as it sucks, it’s freeing to talk to someone whose parents aren’t all roses and sunshine either. Though he arguably has it worse than me.
We stare at each other for a moment or two, and then, as if on cue we burst into laughter. Full on belly-holding, can’t calm back down laughter
“Fuck,” I gasp out through giggles once I catch my breath. “I needed that.”
“As did I.”
I lift my chin for a kiss, and he happily obliges. “I'm glad you came here,” I mumble against his lips and run my fingers through his hair.
“I'm glad I came here too.” Another kiss. “Come on. Let's get the food ready. I'm starving.”