Page 31

I’m saved from having to reply when Abe returns from the bathroom, but guilt taints my fingers and heart as we return to our game. There’s no saving my mood this time, and the night quickly tilts to its inevitable conclusion.

We’re packing the cards away when Paul stumbles through the door, completely and wildly drunk.

“Katarina,” he slurs. He hangs off the door in the entry hall. “I knew you’d be here.”

Tony scoots closer to me on the couch. Abe rises from his chair.

“Katarina.” Paul tries to come closer, but he trips over the rug and crashes into the table.

Abe walks over to steady Paul by his shoulders. “Let’s get you to bed. You can talk to Kat in the morning, okay?”

“You.” He looks at Abe, storm clouds brewing on his face. “You have some balls, Abe.” Paul gives him a shove backward. Right in the chest. It’s not hard, but Abe isn’t amused.

Tony gets off the couch. Wary.

“Where were you last night, Abe?” Paul asks. “Were you balls deep in my girl?”

“Paul!” I cry out.

Abe takes a deep breath. It sounds deadly, even from across the room. “I was right here, asshole. So was Tony. Where you should have been. With her.”

Tony splits the two apart. “Yes, but not balls deep,” he elucidates, putting a hand on Paul’s heaving chest. “No one was balls deep anywhere last night. Come on, hermano, let’s get you to bed. ”

Paul lets Tony tug him forward, but before they get to his bedroom, he turns back for me. “Kat?”

I wait, my arms and legs crossed, wound tighter than a pretzel.

“I’m really sorry,” he finally says.

I blink twice, disarmed. Paul disappears into his bedroom.

I decide to sleep in Abe’s room again. Tony doesn’t follow us though, and without the buffer of his presence, I’m not sure how to behave. I turn on my side, away from Abe as he sinks onto the bed. The springs feel rigged to blow, like even the barest of wrong breaths may light the fuse.

“Don’t worry, Kat,” Abe says. He sounds exhausted. “I’m not going to touch you.”

“Sorry.” I roll back over toward him, shamefaced.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I love you too, Abe,” I whisper as he closes his eyes.

We’re quiet for a few moments, but I need to say something before he falls asleep. I need to close this door. “Hey, Abe?”

“Yeah?” His lids crack open.

“Tony said something earlier.”

“Tony’s an idiot,” Abe replies swiftly, punching his pillow before settling back in. “Whatever he said, you shouldn’t listen.”

“It was about you and me. And Paul. He said sometimes…it hurts you. What we do.”

Abe takes a slow, deep breath. I wait, reading every flicker crossing his face.

“There was a time when it did,” he admits, “but we’re older now, Kat, and I’ve finally realized something.

I used to think physical expression of love was the ultimate.

I thought it was how you showed someone you love them completely.

But it’s not. The love I feel for you, it doesn’t need to be physical to validate it.

I don’t think we’re built to last that way. ”

“What happened for my birthday…that was the last time, Abe. ”

“I know it was. I saw you with the doctor last week, remember? I know where this is headed, and it’s nothing I want to be a part of. You can trust me when I say I’m okay with it. I will always love you, but the bank is closed now. For good.”

I laugh.

“You ready to fall asleep now, Kat? You feel better?”

“I do. Goodnight, Abe.”

“Goodnight, little wolf.”

We fall asleep beside each other, not touching.

But he’s there, and he lets me stay, even though I’m offering nothing more than my tired, plaintive self.

It’s a kindness, and I realize, suddenly, that’s how Abe has always shown he loves me—with kindness.

It’s quiet sometimes, but that doesn’t make it any less real.

I burrow down in my blankets and close my eyes. It’s a very good night of sleep, the restorative kind. No dreams, no nightmares, just the endless, warm arms of rest. I wish it could go on forever.

“Get out.”

I jolt awake to Paul’s voice. He’s standing over the bed, rustling Abe’s foot. Daylight streams into the room.

“Out.”

If Abe is annoyed at being kicked out of his own bed—and I’m sure he is—he doesn’t show it. He silently gets up and strides from the room, closing the door behind him. “Don’t screw on my bed,” he hollers through the wood, an afterthought.

I almost laugh, and Paul nearly does too. It’s the icebreaker we so badly need, the familiarity we’ve lost. Paul sinks down on Abe’s mattress with a heavy sigh.

“Is this your room now?” I hear sadness, not accusation, in his tone.

“No, Paul, but you really tied one on last night. You were corked. ”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was upset. You’re my blind spot, Kat.

I don’t always see or think clearly where you’re concerned.

In fact, I don’t think I’m making clearheaded decisions at all lately.

” He rubs his face. “You’re right. We’ll wait on the Magpie job.

There’s no rush. But there’s something else…

I need you to be honest right now. What else do you need from me? ”

“I need you to treat me like a real partner, Paul. That means when you have a problem with me, you communicate calmly and rationally. Like an adult. And I don’t want any cheap shots taken at Matthew in the process. He doesn’t take them at you, so stop taking them at him.”

Paul opens his mouth to interject, but I raise a finger because I’m not done.

“And I need you to let me figure things out on my own for a while. Even if it hurts you. I’m sorry about that, but you gave your permission. You told me to do this. I didn’t intend for it to happen, but emotions got involved. I like him. And I’m done feeling guilty for something you instigated.”

Paul focuses on his lap. “You’re saying I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it?”

“Essentially.”

He nods slowly. “How would you feel if I spent New Year’s Eve with someone else, Kat?” he says, raising his eyes to mine. “If I kissed someone else at midnight? Whispered New Year’s promises to another woman?”

This is what I wanted to hear from him last night, honesty and vulnerability, but it’s come twenty-four hours too late. There’s no way to know if these are true feelings, or just after-the-fact rationality. More manipulation.

“I wouldn’t like it,” I answer, “but I also wouldn’t be allowed to care. You’ve made me no promises, Paul. Don’t think I’m not aware of it. I’m still not entirely sure what’s more hurt—your pride or your actual feelings.”

It’s nearly imperceptible, but Paul’s mouth tightens. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you when I get back from the holiday.

While I’m gone, I want you to know I’ll miss you.

Because I always miss you when we aren’t together, Paul.

It’s not a zero-sum game. When he gains, you don’t lose.

So stop worrying about what I’m doing with him and just concentrate on showing me why it’s been you and me all these years. I’m starting to forget.”

Paul’s fingers flex. His jaw ticks. “I know, I’m sorry.

I want you to go. I want you to have fun.

If you want to screw him while you’re gone, then I even want you to do that.

Because when this is all over, when we end up together, I don’t want you to have any doubts.

” He pins his gaze to mine, the old smolder burning low.

“I didn’t make you promises because I didn’t think I needed to.

It’s always been us, Kat. It always will be. ”