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My gut tells me no.
I probably look like a wreck. In order to clear my head, I walked for a good long time after leaving Kirian’s house. It was hot, and I was sticky and wilted by the time I gave in and called a cab. I plopped down on the couch the second I walked in the door, and I didn’t have the energy or willpower to get up and move.
So I’m currently still in the same clothes as earlier, and they no longer look as good as they did. I think my T-shirt might even have sweat stains.
What are the odds I successfully open the door, pluck the cake out of Kirian’s hands, wish him well with his life, and jump back inside without him getting in?
Zero. The odds are zero. Because I just can’t do that.
He brought a cake for cake’s sake.
Maybe I could get him to wait in here while I have a two-minute shower and get changed into something that isn’t sweat-soaked. He could cut the cake, and I could get him to feed the cats. I’m fast in the shower, another throwback to days when showers weren’t always guaranteed.
I fling open the door so suddenly that Kirian starts, and the cake wobbles. He steadies out, holding it in his fabulous muscular arms with his beautiful hands. He’s changed, and he’s now wearing a black T-shirt and jeans. Basically, he’s delicious. My mouth waters again, and not for the cake that he’s holding. He’s the definition of arm porn. Is there such a thing? Chest porn? Or T-shirt and jeans porn? All around sexy-man-holding-a-cake porn?
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I gulp and squeak. Whatever. I’m not sure what that noise comes out as, but it’s not nearly my right voice.
Kirian holds out the cake. “I brought this for you. The last one was disgusting, but this one is truly delicious. It’s the cake to beat all cakes. Raspberry flavored with raspberry jelly in the middle and cream cheese icing. It’s spectacular.”
“Oh. Um, thanks. You didn’t have to—”
“I did. I wanted you to have a good cake. And I wanted…no, I needed to talk to you. Oh, and this bag has eight cans of tuna. Two for each cat.”
Damn. He brought tuna. For my cats. “You…uh…you thought of my cats?”
“I did, yes.”
I can’t send him away and tell him to leave. I can’t tell him I’m not his soulmate and that the world will be a better place if we just keep our shit together and don’t see each other again. “I guess this is the part where I should ask you to come in instead of leaving you standing on my doorstep with your arms loaded down like that when you look like you’re about to burst with all the serious things you need to say.”
“Okay.” Kirian steps in. I take the cake from him and bring it to the kitchen. I don’t trust the cats because even I can smell the allure of the cream cheese icing, so I slide it onto the top shelf of the practically empty fridge.
Kirian comes into the kitchen and sets the bag of tuna on the counter. He looks around, but I don’t see any judgment on his face even though this place is a dump with holes in the walls, old sagging cupboards, a patio table with mismatched chairs, a couch, and well, that’s it.
Before I can go into another big spiel, apologizing again and then restating what I said earlier because it really is for the best, Kirian blows my mind and says something completely unexpected. Really. The only reason I figure he’s here is that he…needs more closure? Needs to be sure I agree we won’t see each other again for purposes of the curse? Because he needed to bring me a parting gift of a cake?
“I have no idea how to support you or what to do or say. I can listen, though. I can listen to you and take your lead. If you’re still doing therapy sessions and you’re comfortable talking, I’ll be here. On your timeline. And I’ll support you in any way I can.”
His face is all soft and open, and god, it makes my chest feel squishy and soft, too, despite the fact that I don’t get squishy and soft anywhere, especially not in the chest.
“It means a lot just hearing you say you believe me. It’s a relief to know I wasn’t overreacting or that I don’t know what I’m talking about. That it does matter, even if he didn’t do anything physically. And despite that, I still have a right to be upset, to need help to move on. I really have tried to put the past behind me—all of my past, not just Phil—or at least be okay now in the present. But everything that happened to me and my sister, I just…you deserved to know. You deserved to know where I came from, even though it sucked to tell you.”
