“I’m up for it. Would you mind letting Lev and Lowell in on the plan? I have a feeling they don’t really want to talk to me at the moment.”
“I’ll let them know. Now, I’ve got to go figure out how to grovel myself.”
Lost in ideas on how to tackle the situation, I wave him off.
The eyes are the worst,I think.
Grabbing the tablet, I start searching for a few items.
CHAPTER 36
KATE
Nightmares plague the rest of my weekend. Grim scenes from the past. Cutting words and bruises dominate my thoughts. And, as always, the night we stared at each other while he held a gun in his lap. I have so many mixed feelings about that night. Fear and anger, of course. But primarily relief. Relief that I didn’t have to face him again. That he took matters into his own hands. Which is always followed by guilt. Why couldn’t we have found a way to move forward? Even if it was not together?
In one way, I was relieved Lev, Lowell, and Shaw knew about this last skeleton. When I called my therapist Sunday, she said that telling my truth was the final step towards peace and recovery. Holding it in gave it too much power. She cautioned me against letting my anger drive a wedge between me and my happiness. Let my recent victories define my future, not the fucked up past.
My mind is filled with conflicting emotions of anger and relief when I get a text from Shaw, asking to come over. Staring down at the words for a few minutes, I finally stop debating and send him a reply to come over around six tonight, which is about two hours from now.
After a shower and brief trip to the grocery store, I’m fixing dinner when I hear him knock. Walking over, I open the door and gesture for him to come in. His brown eyes are intent as they search my face for an indication of my mood.
“I’m making dinner. Would you like to eat with me?”
Exhaling, he tucks his hands into his back pocket. “I’d love to eat dinner with you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, you can set the island while I finish the beans and rice. We’re having chicken enchiladas, if that’s OK with you?”
He grins and starts setting down plates and silverware. “What would you like to drink?”
“Water, and I’ve got Mexican beer in the fridge. The bar is over there if you want something different.”
“This is good.” He quickly finishes and grabs our drinks.
Pulling the chicken enchiladas from the oven, I set them on the stove with the rice and beans. “Please bring your plate over and serve yourself.”
I motion to the food, then walk over to the island and place sour cream and tortilla chips on it. Walking back to the stove with my own plate, I fill it up and sit down next to Shaw.
