Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“Kat.” I say her name softly as the microwave starts and she whips around, backing into the cabinets with her hand on her chest.
“Sorry,” I say and there’s not a single second of hesitation when I apologize. “I know you said not to come … I just …”
I can see the outline of her breasts through the shirt and with her dark brunette hair a mess from sleep, she’s never looked more beautiful. More fuckable. More mine.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Kat whispers after a second, breathless.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I didn’t mean to.” I take a chance to move closer but stop at the kitchen counter. Boundaries. I’ve already broken so many of them. It’s hard to keep my distance, but I’ll wait.
“What are you doing here?” The microwave beeps and she rips the door open without taking the bowl out then slams it shut. Merely silencing it before crossing her arms over her chest.
I cock a brow at her anger, but she doesn’t react.
“I brought these.” Slipping my hand into my jacket pocket, I pull out the pair of baby shoes I got from home. They’re the same pair I wore when I was little. Smooth leather and simple, but before me, they were my father’s. I found them in a box in Pops’s basement. Ma put them there. It’s her handwriting.
Kat pinches the bridge of her nose and turns her shoulder to me, hiding her expression, but I saw it. The sweep of sadness cuts me to my core.
“Baby?” I whisper softly, cautiously even. “I—”
“What are you doing?” she says, cutting me off as she stares daggers in my direction.
“I know you’re angry.” My tone is placating, but it does nothing to soothe her.
“Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
A second passes, followed by another as I struggle to form the right words. “I have faith you’ll forgive me,” I tell her with feigned confidence.
“Fuck off,” she spits out.
“Because you love me. And you know I love you.”
“You love me?” she questions with a deep scowl. Storming toward me, she sticks her finger in my chest as she yells. “This is what love is?” She shoves me back and I take it, loving the fight in her. But it doesn’t last long.
“Your father died, and I had to be alone.” She murmurs the truth I already know and takes a step back. “You chose to be alone,” she whispers. She tries turning from me again, but I grip her waist.
“I didn’t want it to be like that. I swear to you.” Bringing up my pops hits me hard. I keep forgetting and that’s how I want it to be. I keep thinking he’ll call or text. I keep thinking when all this is over, we’ll have dinner together on Sundays again. I hate it when I remember he’s not here anymore. I can’t handle losing them both at once.
“I’m not all right.” I whisper the truth to her as something pricks at the back of my eyes. “I’m sorry.” Sincerity is there, but I don’t know that she can hear it anymore. The feeling of worthlessness washes over me.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” She takes in a deep breath meant to steady her, but it seems to do the opposite.
“You know what loving you means?” I ask her, raising my voice. “It means protecting you.”
“You can take all those words and—”
“They’re in my vows,” I say, heaving out the words as I interrupt her, my emotions rising and the thought of losing Kat forever becoming more and more real. “Protecting you is in my vows.”
“Don’t talk to me about vows.” I’ve never seen her so angry. The look in her eyes is pure hate mixed with mourning.
“Come here,” I tell her and her eyes narrow.
She tilts her head to the side and looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. My heart feels like it does a somersault, a painful flip in my chest as she says, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“The only reason I’ve been gone is that being seen with you would put you in danger.” I hate myself the moment the confession slips out. Weak. I’m so fucking weak. I need to be a better man for her, but I’ve never been good enough and we both know that.
Kat’s silent, but her expression is unchanged.
With a hesitant step forward and my hands held out to her, I add, “I had to do it.”
“You don’t have to do a damn thing but breathe,” she finally responds, her voice hollow, the devastation I’ve caused ringing out clearly.
“I was only trying to keep you safe.” I say the words quietly as the sight of Kat in front of me becomes more of a reality than my fear ever was.
She hates me. I’ve made my wife hate me. Pain ricochets through every piece of me.