I swallowed everything I wanted to say in that moment.
How she never really answered the question of if she wanted children. How I suspected that she was really leaving me because I was asking her a scary question. How she was hiding behind her dad’s broken leg as an excuse to crawl back into the safety of her bunker instead of confronting what was happening between us.
I said none of those things, because all of that was stuff she needed to realize on her own. I could push her a little. Tug her a bit. But in the end, Kay-Kay had to decide what she wanted for her life. More importantly, she had to decide who she wanted in her life.
I was in love with her, but I knew I couldn’t burden her with that. It wouldn’t be fair. Not when she was being pulled from so many directions.
“I’ll drive you home,” I said, sitting up. “You’re not going to be able to walk in those heels across the farm.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She was slipping the black dress on over her head. “I can manage. Uh…can I have my underwear?”
I pulled on a pair of jeans, threw on a sweater, and shoved my bare feet into some boots. I considered her question.
“Nope. But here’s the to-go bag with your steak,” I said, holding up the bag from the restaurant. We’d dropped the bags by the door of the cabin, the second we stepped inside and decided to eat each other instead. “Added a few sharing plates, too, but I figure if you eat the whole thing by yourself, it will be less complicated for you.”
Her lips twisted at my teasing. “You think you’re funny.”
I pinched my thumb and finger together. “A little bit.”
“You’re really not going to give me my panties back?”
“Not in this lifetime. Now head to the car, woman, and I’ll drive you back home. Because that’s what a gentleman does.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Oh really? Would a gentleman hold on to my underwear?”
“Absolutely,” I said with a straight face. “Page one of the Gentleman Handbook: always keep the panties.”
SIXTEEN
A Few Days Later
Kristen
“I’ll tell you what. Things sure are getting crazy around here.”
I glanced up from my phone and watched my dad navigate into the kitchen on his crutches. Usually he was the early riser, but today I had him beat.
“I mean, are you paying attention?” he asked me. “There are all sorts of drama going on.”
Tell me about it. I’m sure Dad was talking about Ethan’s surprise wife. Or maybe the stuff going on with Matt and Jasmine. I didn’t think he suspected that Paul and I were having…
What were Paul and I doing?
What would I call it? How would I label it?
A dalliance? Too old fashioned.
Friends with benefits? Too two-thousands.
A liaison? Too French. I wasn’t cool enough to pull that off.
An affair. Too…temporary sounding.
“I’m focused on the business, Dad,” I told him as he took a seat at the kitchen table, his crutches pushed aside. “The good news is things are turning around. As much as I hate to say it, because it gives him way too much credit, Matt’s making a difference. Credit to Jasmine, too. All of her ideas are working. Come Christmas Eve, this place is going to be a Christmas Wonderland.”
My dad smiled and patted his round belly. “Your mother would be happy about that.”
I let the wave of grief hit me, and like it had these last few years, gently recede away. I had a feeling that was always how it would be. The pain of missing her, the acceptance that she was gone.
