Chapter Thirty-nine
Kenna
Amelia knows he’s coming and has insisted we wait outside on the front porch since it’s been seasonably warmer this week. Spring officially arrives tomorrow. The small lake is still frozen over, but short of a few piles that still dot the landscape, most of the snow has melted.
“How much longer?” she asks, fidgeting on the stoop.
I don’t even get a chance to answer as Carter’s car pulls into view.
He parks. Our eyes connect. And through the front windshield, I can see him visibly sigh. Then he closes his eyes and his forehead briefly meets the top of the steering wheel.
“Carter!” Amelia hops off the front steps and races over, jumping into his arms as soon as he’s out of the car.
They hug, both squeezing each other tightly, smiles on each of their faces.
Every time I see them interact like this, my heart melts. She loves him. Maybe she even loves him as much as I love him.
Tears come to my eyes when I think about the future. Because now I know there actually might be a future for us. All of us. Together.
“Why do you look so relieved?” I ask when he carries Amelia over to greet me.
It’s strange. We gaze deeply into each other’s eyes, but we don’t kiss. Don’t hug. It’s like neither of us wants to let Amelia in on our little secret until we’re sure we can end up together.
He does, however, reach out, take my hand, and squeeze it. “I’m just… glad you’re here.”
I tilt my head. “Where else would we be?”
He shrugs, not answering. There’s something different about the way he looks.
He’s definitely not the relaxed, carefree guy I’ve come to know.
Something is bothering him. I just hope that something isn’t regret.
Regret over our declarations of love. Over him saying he’d uproot his life for me.
A week is a long time to ruminate over crazy, impulsive decisions.
But he’s here. And when I look at him, I see nothing but love there.
For Amelia. For this place. For me. The next few hours will be torture.
Because tonight, after Amelia goes to bed, I’m going to finally come clean and tell him everything.
And then I’m going to tell him my plan for us to be together.
I just hope that plan doesn’t have him turning on me.
Because anyone and everyone would call me an idiot for what I’ve done. What I’m planning to do.
Amelia points to the yard. “Frosty melted.”
Carter puts her down and crouches. “It’s getting warmer. That means you need to stay away from the lake, okay, pumpkin? It may look frozen, but if you walk on it, the ice could break and you could fall clean through and get hurt. Promise me you won’t go near it.”
She wraps her little arms around him. “I promise.” Then she takes his hand and pulls him inside. “What do you want to play first? Go Fish or Candy Land?”
“Your choice.”
“Amelia,” I chide. “Let him breathe for a minute before you start in with the games.”
She looks between Carter and me, then studies his chest. “He is breathing, Mommy.”
He chuckles. “Well, she’s not wrong.”
After an hour of board and card games, I let Amelia play a video game while Carter and I make dinner. He’s going through the motions, but it’s not fun and flirty like it usually is when we make a meal together. He’s quiet. Carter is never quiet.
I bump my hip against his. “Penny for your thoughts?”
He’s staring out the window as water boils. It’s like he doesn’t even hear me.
“Carter?” I wave a hand in front of his face.
He comes back from wherever he was with a start. “Sorry. What?”
“I was just wondering what’s eating you.”
He glances back at Amelia, who’s completely engrossed in her video game, then whispers, “It’s nothing. I don’t want to worry you with my shit.”
“Isn’t that what love is? Taking on the other person’s shit?”
Okay, so yeah, that kind of makes me a total hypocrite. But in my defense, I am coming clean later.
When he doesn’t respond, I ask, “Carter, are we… okay?”
He wraps an arm around my shoulder and kisses my temple. “We’re okay. It’s just been a day.”
The water is at a rolling boil, so I add pasta and set a timer. “Want to talk about it?”
His hands scrub down the sides of his face.
“Should I be worried?” I sit on a kitchen chair. “Are you having second thoughts about what we said last weekend?”
He moves around behind me and rubs my shoulders. “No. Absolutely not.” He leans close to my ear. “I probably love you even more today than I did then.”
Relief courses through me. Because while we’ve not seen each other in person this week—something I insisted on since I thought he needed to spend more time with Christian—we’ve been talking and texting a lot more than we used to.
Except for today. I hadn’t even heard from him after he sent his ‘good morning’ text along with a time of when we might expect him. He didn’t call me on his lunch break. Didn’t text me sweet emojis. Didn’t send me funny or inspirational Dr. Seuss quotes.
I reach back and squeeze one of his hands.
I’m not sure how to respond to this clammed-up side of him.
What can I say to get him talking? I know there’s something he needs to tell me.
Maybe after Amelia goes down he’ll be more forthcoming.
I know I will. I just hope at the end of the night, he’s in my arms making good on his promise to stay with me no matter what.
Because the no matter what could very well make or break us.
He puts on a smile during dinner, probably for Amelia’s sake, but I can tell it’s not very genuine. After dinner we play a few more games before Amelia starts yawning. Having basically given up naps for good this week, bedtime has been coming earlier for her.
After brushing her teeth, Amelia dons her jammies and comes out with an armful of books, bypassing me and heading right to Carter. It’s as if I don’t even exist when he’s around. She’s got him up on a pedestal that’s so high, I know no other man will ever measure up in her eyes.
I just hope none ever have a chance to try.
Twenty minutes later, she’s asleep in his arms. He kisses her forehead and carries her off to bed.
Anxiety tries to get the better of me when he puts her down. Because it’s time for my come to Jesus talk. Maybe tonight, with him feeling the way he is, is not the best night. But I know I’m just looking for excuses now. Trying to come up with reasons to prolong the inevitable.
I stoke the fire, open a bottle of wine, pour two glasses, and take them to the couch.
Carter emerges from the bedroom and practically falls onto the couch next to me, as if he’s completely spent by whatever has been eating away at him.
I pick up my wine glass and take a sip. Then another. And a third. I’m stalling, and I know it.
He blows out a long, deep, controlled breath. “Someone paid off the loan on the shop.”
I stiffen. I had no idea he’d find out so soon. Closing my eyes, I steel myself to unload all my baggage. Because I’ve no choice now.
When I don’t react, he cocks his head. “Why don’t you seem surprised?
” He studies my face. “Oh, shit. Maybe Jonah was wrong and Cyrus did it. Is that what you’re thinking?
Is this what he does? Some lawyer scheme to, I don’t know, get control of you, or hurt me or whatever?
I mean I was sure it was one of my cousins.
Or maybe Tucker McQuaid. Then I thought it had to be Allie, because Christian told Bug.
Jonah is looking into it, but my banker said I might have to get a lawyer… ”
I want to ask who Jonah is, but as he goes on and on, I know I need to shut it down.
I swallow hard. “It wasn’t Cyrus or your cousins or Allie.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because…” My heart races. My pulse pounds. My hands shake. “Because it was me. I did it. I paid off the loan.”
His face morphs into a mask of surprise, disbelief, and complete and utter shock. Maybe he thinks I’m joking.
“You?” he asks as if he didn’t hear me.
I nod.
He stands, almost knocking over our wine glasses, and glares down at me. “What the hell am I missing here? You lived in my basement, Kenna.” He starts pacing. “But the car. And all the cash. I swear to God if you used your life savings, or did anything to get your hands on the money—”
I close my eyes and blurt, “I won the lottery.”
He guffaws. Then shakes his head. Then guffaws some more. “You… what?”
I shrug innocently.
“Bullshit.”
“No, really. I did.”
“All kidding aside, Kenna. Are you being serious?”
“One hundred percent.”
Hands rake through his hair. “Okay. I mean that’s great, but if it’s true, I won’t have you spending it all on me. That’s insane.”
As he carries on, I realize what’s happening. He must think I won some small amount. Maybe a million-dollar scratch-off that would only end up yielding a few hundred thousand after taxes.
“I can’t let you do it,” he says. “That money should be for Amelia’s future, and—”
“It was fifty million dollars, Carter.”
His legs become Jell-O and almost collapse out from under him. He catches himself on the side of the couch, then he doubles over, hands on his knees, practically hyperventilating. “Are you fucking serious?”
I hold up my palms. “As a heart attack.”
“Oh my God.” He sits. “Oh my God.” He says it over and over, the words coming out with a little more excitement each time, as if he thinks perhaps all of our lives just changed and we’ll never have another care in the world.
But then something shifts. “Oh my God, Kenna,” he says again, this time in utter fear. “That’s why Cyrus is after you. He’s threatened to kidnap Amelia for ransom hasn’t he?”
“Not in so many words. And honestly, I don’t think it would ever come to that. But I was stupid. I gave in to him after I got the first payout. Now he thinks he’s entitled to more.”
His eyes are glazed over. He takes a long drink of wine, then refills his glass. “I’m going to need you to start from the very beginning.”
I drain my own glass and do exactly what he asks.