42. Kaitlyn
FORTY-TWO
Kaitlyn
PRESENT DAY
I TELL GRACE EVERYTHING, STARTING WITH THE DAY I MET Went and ending with waking up in his bed on new year’s day. The entire time, Grace sat on the edge of my couch and listened. Waited for me to run out of story before she lets out a long, slow whistle.
“So the two of you have just been avoiding each other for the past six months?” She shakes her head like even after my long-winded explanation, she still doesn’t understand. “How does that even work?”
“He gets Gilroy’s and Benny’s. I get Sunday dinner at Conner and Henley’s and the center,” I tell her on a brittle laugh. “And it worked fine until Tess decided to play matchmaker. Things have started to unravel over the last few days.”
“No shit…” When I mention Tess, Grace frowns. “You know, what happened between her and Went happened long before any of us knew you, right?”
“I know.” I give her a brief, wane smile before it falls flat. “I’d never blame Tess for any of this. We should’ve been honest from the start. It was stupid of us to think we could get away with it, long term.”
“Why weren’t you?” Grace asks, probing for answers as gently as she can. “Honest? Why didn’t you just tell everyone the truth? Get it all out in the open.”
“I don’t know…” I shake my head. It’s a lie. I know why I didn’t want any of our friends to know what I’d done. That I left Went while he wasn’t looking with nothing but a wedding band and signed divorce papers to prove we’d even been married in the first place. I didn’t want them to know because I hate myself for what I did to him and if they knew the truth, I was convinced they’d hate me too. “I was scared, I guess.”
Grace makes a soft sound in the back of her throat that tells me she understands. “Well, I won’t say anything but if Conner knows, that means it’s only a matter of time before Henley knows, and Tess…” This time when she says her name, Grace covers her mouth and her eyes go wide. “Tess is going to lose her shit on Went when she finds out.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I say with a head nod. “None of this is his fault. All he ever tried to do is help me. I’m the one who messed everything up by agreeing to marry him in the first place.”
“Why did you?” Another gentle, probing question. One I don’t want to answer because I’ll just end up lying again.
Shifting my gaze to the framed drawing in from of me, I shake my head. “I told you, my father was hellbent on making me marry?—”
“You were an adult,” Grace reminds me. “You didn’t have to marry Went to get away from him and he didn’t have to propose. All he had to do was take you with him when he left.”
Looking back at her, I feel the back of my neck go hot and tight because she’s right. “I…” Shaking my head again, I try to find the right lie to explain what happened between Went and me. The right justification that would answer her question, once and for all.
But I can’t.
Because there isn’t one.
“You were in love with him,” she states plainly, her tone at odds with the cautious smile she’s giving me. “And if I had to guess, he was in love with you too.”
No.
There’s no way Went was in love with me because no one can love me. Not after the things I did. The grief I caused.
Before I can humiliate myself by admitting it out loud, Grace reaches out and pats my hand. “I give it about twenty-four hours before the whole fam damily knows everything,” she tells me. Standing up on a sigh, she gives me a faint smile. “If I were you, I’d tell Ryan that Went isn’t a married, cheating piece of shit before that happens and all hell breaks loose.”
I START MY MONDAY MORNING LIKE I START EVERY morning—by rousing my blockhead dog out of bed and calling Ryan so he can tell me he doesn’t need my help with anything. When he doesn’t answer, I briefly consider going back to bed, like I always do. And like I always do, I push myself out of it while Mook makes protestive noises from under the covers.
“No one said you had to get up,” I grumble at him while I leave him behind to start my morning routine. Grateful that I remembered to prep and set the timer on my coffee pot, I pour myself a cup. Carrying it into the living room, I sit in my usual spot on the couch, the framed drawing Went left for me last night, right in front of me.
I remember that day. It was the day I finally went back to Northpoint. The day Went and I sat on the dock while he drew a dragonfly on my shoulder and I told him the secret of why my father hates me so much.
He’s punishing me.
For what I did to them.
He’d been so angry when I told him that I had to leave. That I couldn’t stay the way I’d promised him I would. Not angry with me for leaving. Angry because he was sure I wouldn’t come back.
And now here I am, refusing to leave.
Went was right—it would’ve been much easier if I’d let him push me out of Boston six months ago. I’m good at what I do and nursing is a profession you can do anywhere. Every city needs them. I could be somewhere else right now. Somewhere I could’ve started over without the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, looming over me.
You were in love with him and if I had to guess, he was in love with you too.
Coffee churning in my stomach, I stand up and make my way to the kitchen to dump it in the sink. Deciding that I’ve stalled long enough and that any longer will mark me as a coward, I pick up my phone and text Ryan.
Me: Need me for anything?
While I’m rinsing my cup, my phone buzzes on the counter with a text alert.
Ryan: Yeah. I need to talk to you about something. Meet me at Con’s in an hour?
When I see the text, my already roiling stomach drops into my feet before bouncing back up with a sickening lurch because even though I’d resolved to tell Ryan the truth about Went and me, I wasn’t prepared to do it so soon.
Me: Is everything okay?
Ryan: Everything is fine. There’s just something I need to talk to you about.
Suddenly sure Grace ratted me out, I tap out my answer with shaky hands.
Me: See you in an hour.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, MOOK AND I ARE WALKING UP Conner and Henley’s driveway, him straining forward on his leash because he can hear Molly playing in the back yard. As soon as we get through the gate leading to the back yard, I unclip his leash and he surges forward on a happy bark when he sees his best friend and Henry playing tag in the grass while Ryan and Conner supervise from a pair of gliders on the back porch. When he sees me coming, Conner flashes me his dimples in an I know your secret kind of smile before he says something to Ryan and stands to head into the house.
“Hey,” Ryan says, giving me one of his flat, Ryan smiles. “Before you ask—yes, I took my meds and yes, I logged thirty minutes in the tank before I left this morning.”
“Okay…” Offering him a pained smile of my own, I slowly lower myself into the seat Conner just vacated. “You said there’s something you wanted to talk to me about?’ I prompt him because I suddenly just want to get it over with. I don’t want to lie anymore.
“We’re moving,” Ryan tells me without preamble. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it but lately when I see you, you’ve been… occupied.”
“Oh…” I nod slowly, aiming my gaze over the porch railing, at the backyard where Mook, Molly, and Henry are taking turns chasing each other. “Where to?”
“Mary and Patty must’ve started an epidemic because the family that owns the house next-door put theirs on the market,” he says on a laugh. “We’ve submitted a petition to adopt Henry and Allison so we need more room and if we’re going to go through the trouble of moving, it may as well be to a place with a backyard. We put in the offer last week—we got word Friday that they accepted.”
For a few seconds I don’t know what to say because I know why he’s telling me. I understand what it means, even if he doesn’t.
Ryan doesn’t need me anymore.
“It’s a two-story,” I say carefully because even though Ryan is better about accepting his limitations, he still doesn’t like to be reminded of them. Instead of getting angry or snapping at me, he laughs.
“Because he’s an asshole, Con suggested one of those chair lifts for the stairs but I talked to Declan and we’re going to convert the downstairs den into a primary suite.” Waiting a beat, he seems to be letting the news sink in for the both of us before he continues. “I also talked to him about building an apartment over the garage.” He gives me a smirk. “That way you won’t have to keep your wine in my fridge anymore and that blockhead dog of yours will have a yard to tear up.”
It takes a few moments for me to understand what he’s saying. That I’m included in the we part of we’re moving , and for a second I’m so grateful, I feel like crying.
But only for a second.
“Ryan…” Shaking my head, I chew on my bottom lip, trying to figure out how to say what comes next. Looking at him, I give him a sad smile. “You don’t need me anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” The smirk on his face slowly fades away while what I just said sinks in. “Of course I still need you. You’re my?—”
“I can’t even remember the last time you let me help you out of bed,” I remind him, struggling to keep my tone steady and even. “You’ve refused shower help from day one and…” Shaking my head again, I sigh. “You’ve got Grace. The two of you are going to get married and you’re a dad now—a really, really good dad—” I think about my brother. All the things he never got to do. Never got to be. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly because if I think of Luke now, I’ll fall apart completely. “It’s okay, Ryan. This is a good thing.”
He stares at me, jaw clamped so tight I can practically hear his teeth grinding together. He wants to argue with me. Tell me I’m wrong but he can’t because he knows I’m not.
“What will you do?” he asks quietly because none of this went the way he thought it would.
“I’ll still be a nurse. I can work at the center,” I tell him, even though I’m not sure if that’s what I want anymore. Because this feels like a sign. Like maybe this isn’t where I’m supposed to be. Like maybe it’s time to let go and move on.
Putting my uncertain future aside for now, I focus on what I came here to tell him. “I have to tell you something,” I say quietly, even though I’m pretty sure everyone else here knows but him. “About Went. What he told you last week.”
“That he’s married,” Ryan says with a disgusted scoff. “What about it.”
“He’s not.” Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “He’s not married. The woman in the drawings isn’t his wife. She’s his ex-wife.”
“Kaitlyn…” Ryan looks at me like I might be the dumbest person he’s ever met. “Is that what he told you? That?—”
“No.” I shake my head again. “Went didn’t have to tell me anything because I already knew.”
“What does that mean?” Now he’s looking at me like he thinks he might be the dumb one.
“It means I know the woman in the drawings are of his ex-wife because she’s me.” When his brow crumples in confusion, I cut straight to the point. “I’m the woman in Went’s drawings. He’s my ex-husband.”
Brow still crumpled, Ryan looks away from me, jaw set while he tries to process what I just told him. “Went is your ex- husband.” It’s not a question. He’s repeating it back to me like he wants to make sure he heard me correctly.
“Yes.” Watching him carefully, I nod my head. “We weren’t married for very long. I—” Before I can tell him what happened, he cuts me off.
“When?’ Looking back at me, Ryan shakes his head, still frowning. “When were you divorced?”
“2013,” I tell him. “I filed for divorce five weeks after we got married.”
“Why?” Brow crumpling again, he watches me, eyes narrowed on my face. “What happened? Did he?—”
“No.” I shake my head emphatically, unwilling to let Went take the blame for something that was ultimately my fault. “Went was perfect. He did everything right. Nothing that happened was his fault.”
The look on his face calls me a liar. “Then why did you leave him?”
Because I’d already taken too much from him.
Because I’d been selfish long enough.
Because he didn’t love me back.
“Because it was the right thing to do.” Shaking my head again on a sigh, I lean forward in my seat and look him in the eye so I can be sure he understands me. “Went isn’t the asshole here, Ryan. I am. I fucked up. All Went ever tried to do was help me.”
Watching my face for a few moments, Ryan leans back in his seat on a sigh of his own before giving me one of his vague, flat smiles. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean but if it’s true then Ritchie Rich is the one who’s gonna need the help now.”