And then I scramble to catch up.
That night, we make dinner, and she eats the bulk of it when I’m not looking. Every time I glance away, her fork finds her mouth. Every time I glance back, she smiles. I pretend I don’t notice. She pretends nothing is going on. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like we’re pretending.
It feels like we’re creating a system.
Something that anyone else would think is wrong, but it works for us.
And that’s all that matters.
Later, I sit on a chair in the corner of the bedroom while she packs. She’s only brought over a fraction of her clothes, but it’s enough for a weekend in Nashville.
We both get ready for bed, and when she’s done using the bathroom and comes to say goodnight to me, something hits me.
“Hey, you called Otto ‘Mr. Hanninen.’ How did you know that was his last name? I don’t have him saved like that in my phone.”
“I learned everyone’s names from both your teams.”
“What? Why? To sell the marriage?”
Her eyebrows pinch together, and she cocks her head to the side and gives me a half smile. “No, silly. Because I care about you.”
I think about those five words long after she’s gone into the master bedroom and for far too long as I stare up at the ceiling.
Because I care about you.
There wasn’t a hint of self-consciousness to her words. She said it like it was a fact.
In a year, when Kayla and I have gone our separate ways, how will I ever find a woman who’ll compare to her?
What woman could possibly compete with the one who learned the names of two entire teams—including coaches—because she cared?
Easy, O’Shannan,I tell myself.Don’t get ahead of yourself. She’s not here because she wants you but because she needs you.
Just like everyone.
Right.
She’s flying out to meet her ex in Nashville tomorrow, and here I am, red-faced that she learned some names.
I’m not the guy a girl remembers on a trip like that.
I’m the guy she forgets on the way home.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KAYLA
Ishower and get ready as quietly as I can the next morning, and I write up a quick note in my room—Sean’s room—before I sneak out.
But when I leave the bedroom and go into the main room, it’s to find Sean’s bed is already folded back into the couch.
I follow the sound of the blender into the kitchen and stop when I see his back to me. He takes a sip from the blender, nods, and then pours a pretty green smoothie into one of my small pink tumblers.
Except that isn’t one of my tumblers. I don’t have one in that shade or size.
Did he buy me a tumbler? For smoothies?
This is what love looks like.
