Page 146

My arm stiffens as I slide the key into the lock to our townhouse. My heart doesn’t beat until it turns, proving she didn’t change the locks. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was still holding and push it open. I’m prepared with what I need to say. Prepared to hold my ground and not take no for an answer.
But it only takes one step inside of our living room for all of it to slip away from me.
Kat looks so tired, so worn out propped up in the corner of the sofa with her laptop sitting to the left of her, but the screen’s black. She has a cup of coffee in her hands as well as bags under her eyes. She turns to me slowly, wiping the sleep from her eyesand adjusting herself slightly. With the gentle protest of the sofa, I shut the door behind me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks me, still seated with her legs tucked underneath her on the sofa. I’m stunned for a moment because she’s so fucking beautiful, even in this state. My body’s drawn to her. If it were another time, I’d go to the sofa, push the laptop off and lie down, making her take a break. I’d kiss her until her body writhed against mine.
And she’d let me.She’d let me make her relax. At least she would have a year ago.
“This is my house.” I try not to say the words too firmly. “Our house,” I correct myself and swallow before continuing and taking a single step closer to her. “I worked my ass off?—”
“Then I’ll move out,” Kat quickly states matter-of-factly, but the pain is barely disguised. She seems to snap out of whatever daze had her captive before I came in here.
“I don’t want you to move out. We don’t need this.” I emphasize my words.
“I asked for time and space because I don’t know what to do, Evan. You aren’t giving me any options without telling me what happened.”
“You want to know?” I look her in the eyes, feeling my blood pulse harder in my veins.
“Are you going to tell me the truth?” she asks me in a cracked whisper. “All of it?”
All of it?I have to break her gaze. I can’t. I can’t confess everything. I’d lose her forever.
The second I break eye contact, she scoffs. “You’re so full of shit. Why are you doing this to me?” she asks me, although it’s rhetorical. There’s a loathing in her tone but more than that it’s pain.
Why am I doing this to her?If it was only so easy asdoingsomething. There’s nothing I can do.
“I didn’t come home to fight.”
“Neither did I … but here we are,” she retorts, taking in a shuddering breath. “I asked for time, Evan.”
Tossing my keys on the coffee table, I make my way into the living room and sit across from her in the armchair. I’m not foolish enough to think she’d let me sit close enough to touch her. Even as I sit here, feet away, she bends her legs in closer and pushes the laptop to the side. Like she’s ready to run at a moment’s notice.
Time slips by as I lean back, letting a long exhale take up some of it. “I just want to be home with you while this blows over.”
“Blows over?” I don’t know how she can make a whisper seem hysterical. I’m not good with words. I never have been, but I wish I had the wisdom to say the right thing right now.
“Maybe this is the moment,” she states with a sad smile on her beautiful face.
“The moment?”
“The moment that changes everything for the rest of my life. I’ve been wondering exactly what moment it was, but thought maybe it hasn’t happened yet.”
Her words settle deep in my very core and a tingling runs through my fingers up my arms. Slow, yet all-consuming. Her face changes from the sarcastic disappointment that she had when she said the words. As if only just now realizing the magnitude of them herself.
“We can go back. I promise,” I tell her softly, raising my hands just slightly, but the fear of losing her keeps my blood cold and my motions subtle.
“It’s called separating for a reason,” she says, whispering her response. As if what we had the other night meant nothing. As if there’s no reason for us to be together. Maybe she really doesn’tlove me anymore. The fissure in my chest deepens, feeling like it’s cracked wide open.
“We’re not separated.”
“Yes we are.”
“We didn’t decide to do that,” I answer her. “You were angry.”
“Rightfully so,” she spits back.
“I told you it’s not true,” I plead with her as I stare deep into her eyes. I watch as they gloss over and her lower lip trembles. “Just …” I swallow thickly, the lump growing in the back of my throat suffocating any plea I have for her.Just love me. Just forgive me.