28. LIKE YOU NEVER LEFT #2
It’s a random question, but I guess it opens the door to a conversation, so I nod. “I played hockey. I gave it up after college, though. I was more focused on my career anyway.”
“Did you have a scholarship?” he asks, painting again.
“Yeah.” I nod even though he can’t see me. I get back to painting now, too, trying not to think too hard about my answers. I want to get to know him, want him to know me too—again. “I had a full ride.”
“Bet your parents are proud of you,” Ken says softly, looking at me. When I swallow hard, he frowns.
“Uh—yeah.” I swallow again, my throat constricting. “My dad was especially proud when I graduated. It’s all I ever wanted—to make him proud.”
Kenneth frowns. “Is your dad—”
“Dead?” I finish, then nod. “Yes.”
He clears his throat, “I’m sorry. Can I ask what happened?”
“Cancer.” I leave it at that, not wanting to go into specifics. His eyes widen, and tears spring to them.
“My mom has cancer too,” he says, voice small.
I want to wrap him in my arms and tell him it’s going to be okay.
But I know how this ends, and I don’t want to lie to him just to comfort him.
So I just reach for his hand instead, squeezing it once.
He looks down at our connection, then keeps his eyes there.
“She’s not doing so well. The chemo and radiation are hard on her body, and the doctors are saying it’s not really helping. They gave her six months at most.”
“I’m really sorry, Ken,” I whisper, and he looks up at me, tears shining in his eyes. Then he chuckles and pulls away.
“Sorry to dump this on you,” he replies with a fake laugh. I know how it sounds when it’s real, and this isn’t it. He’s embarrassed right now. “Didn’t mean to make this first date about me.”
“I brought it up first,” I say gently. “And I want to get to know you. I want to know these things.”
Kenneth swallows hard, then nods. “Uh, thank you for listening.”
“Any time.” I watch him as he turns back to his painting and dips his paintbrush in the water. “I want to know more about you, though.”
“Like what?”
“How about your career?” I try to think of something I haven’t asked him before, then say, “I want to know how it started. How did you get where you are today?”
Ken smiles brightly when he looks at me, finally a genuine smile.
This is safe territory. “I actually went to college for pre-law.” I frown.
How did I not know this before? “I know, what was I thinking? I can’t be a lawyer; I’m not even a confrontational person.
” We both chuckle at that, but I don’t interrupt him.
“My mom was the one who got me started with photography when I was little. She got me a Polaroid camera, and I fell in love. I still have those pictures, and I look at them from time to time. I keep them in my nightstand, never far away from me.”
I clear my throat, trying not to get emotional. “How did you go from pre-law to photography then?”
“I saved money for years to buy myself a good camera, and then I entered a contest.” He shrugs as if it’s not a big deal. “Won an award, had my portrait in a gallery thanks to that award, and the rest is history.”
Nodding, I say, “What happened after that gallery?”
Ken smiles. “I kept taking pictures of myself. I never really thought it would be lucrative to do that. I always thought of photographing different subjects, but people really seemed to love how I look.” He frowns. “That’s all they seem to love.”
I stiffen. “You’re worth more than your looks, Kenneth.”
“How would you know?” His question doesn’t sound accusatory, merely curious.
“I just do.” I tap my chest twice. “In here.”
Kenneth frowns, and I’m afraid I said the wrong thing, or came on too strong. He goes back to painting quietly, and I have no choice but to follow suit. I steal glances at him, though. He’s focused on his painting, but there’s a frown on his face, lips tipped down, a furrow in his brow. I did that—
“Looks pretty good,” Kenneth says, startling me. He’s looking at my painting, and I flush.
“It’s not that good. Come on, look at yours!” I gesture to his painting. “That’s amazing.”
He beams. “You think so?”
“Absolutely.”
The art teacher chooses that moment to come to our table, and she praises Kenneth’s art. He smiles at her compliments, and when she walks away, he starts adding a few more details. Clouds. More gold in the sky. More orange. More pink.
“See?” I nudge him gently. “Told you it’s beautiful.”
“Technically, you said it was amazing.” He grins.
“Well, I usually reserve beautiful for a handful of things.” I shrug, and he raises his brows. I know it’s because he thinks I must be crazy. Kenneth finds almost everything beautiful. He has a love for life that is unmatched.
“Like what?”
“You,” I say without thinking, then press my lips into a tight, flat line. His eyes widen, and he flushes again. “A few other things.”
“Thank you,” he breathes, and I watch as he twists his hands in his lap. He doesn’t say anything else for a long moment, and then he says, “You’re beautiful too.”
“You think everything’s beautiful,” I tease.
He snickers. “Not everything.”
“Name one thing you think isn’t beautiful.”
“Chihuahuas,” he blurts, and I stare at him. Then we both burst into laughter. “What? They’re ugly and annoying.”
I’m still chuckling when I agree. “I guess you’re right.”
“I am right.” He grins. “I usually am.”
“If I agree, will you go out with me again?” I ask breathlessly. It’s a risk, but I need to know. I want him to agree. Desperately.
He smirks. “I’ll think about it.”
“What if”—I shake my head, trying to think of a way not to sound desperate, though I’m not sure I’m achieving it—“you take me to your favorite place in the city next time?”
Kenneth bites his bottom lip, seemingly thinking about it, debating his options, then looks at me. “I guess I could do that.”
“You guess?” My heart pounds in my chest.
“Fine.” He grins. “I’ll take you. But only because you asked nicely.”
Those words make me want to say something suggestive, but I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.
I don’t want this to be sexual. I want to get him back, and if there’s one thing I know about Kenneth, it’s that he can get sex anywhere, any time, and from whomever he wants.
I have to give him something no one else has—something no one else can.
Love.
So that’s what I’ll give him.
“I can’t wait.” I smile. “Does it involve a sunset?”
“Always.”
That makes me smile, and when our eyes meet, it feels like I’m looking at our future again.
It’s colorful, and it fills me with hope.
It makes me want to believe in us again, and I’m not sure if that’s stupid or plain dangerous for my heart.
When will I stop fearing the future? Will I ever?
I don’t know the answer to these questions right now.
All I know is that I don’t care either way. I’ll take him however I can get him.
For however long I can have him.