Hers was too hot to hold, so she set it on the counter.
He gave her a half-crooked smile. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“That kiss with Evan—that was the first time I’d ever kissed a man.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Wow.” She thought about what that meant. “Not even a long time ago? Before we met? At college?”
“Never.”
“So no one-time-at-band-camp secrets that tore you apart when we were together?” She was joking, and he laughed. That laugh did good things for her soul.
“Nope.” He sobered up and grimaced. “What kind of porn I looked at…that tore me up. I can admit that. But there’s no history of secret kissing with men. I wish there were, because then it maybe wouldn’t have had to be a secret between us.”
“So what now?”
“I don’t know. Evan suggested therapy.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“He actually yelled it at me, after I punched him, so I’m making it sound better than it was. It was a rough conversation.”
“Youpunchedhim?” She set the mug she was holding down on the counter with a heavy clatter, and crossed her arms. “Youpunchedhim, and you led with the fact that you kissed him instead?”
“One seemed more relevant to the secrets between us.”
“It’s not okay to punch people.”
“Obviously.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“I like how you assume I couldn’t take him.”
“He’s a beast.”
Brent laughed. “Okay, I couldn’t take him. I stand here out of his good graces only. I’ll talk about that in therapy.”
“You’re serious.” A bittersweet pang zapped through her. She’d tried to talk about couples counselling before, but it had never gone anywhere.
He nodded, and the way his gaze raked over her face told her that he knew she was remembering those conversations. “I need to sort my own shit out. When I do that—if I do that—then if you’re interested, we could go together. I might need some help in sharing stuff from the past.”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay. I’ll ask again in the future.”
“This conversation should have happened a year ago,” she reminded him. She was moving on. She didn’t have any room in the moving-on plan for therapy with her ex. “And now—”
“Now, what?”
She glanced around the kitchen they’d painted together. She’d imagined hosting dinner parties in this space, but that had never happened. Her life here had never been what she’d wanted.
It was time to move on.
