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I did my best to smile as he spoke, but my poker face wasn’t strong enough. He had to stop and wipe my eyes with his fingertips every few minutes. I couldn’t even pretend to be happy when he finished speaking.
By the time we were back on his boat, he was holding me against his chest and whispering assurances every few seconds. “It’s going to be alright, Kate. The program is only twenty-four months.”
What? “Two years?”
“I decided to tell you this last for a reason …”
“I wish you’d said it first. When did you find out? Months ago? Weeks ago?”
He didn’t answer that question.
“This feels like a rushed goodbye, James. Like you knew all along you were going to leave.”
“I’ll come back during all the breaks and it’s not like we don’t have cell phones,” he said, hugging me tighter. “This is far from a goodbye, Kate. All you have to do is wait for me, and we’ll be back together in no time.”
I wanted to believe that, wanted to cling to that promise and keep it close, but something told me that despite his pretty words, our forever was in jeopardy.
…
Kate
~ June 30, 2009~
I TRIED TO HOLD BACK tears as we rode to the airport, tried to keep my expression stoic, but it was no use. With every mile that he drove, my heart raced at an erratic, unsteady rhythm, and no amount of hand caresses from James could distract me.
“Kate …” James pulled the car over into the emergency lane. Putting it in in park, he wiped my tears with his fingertips. Then he cupped my face in his hands. “Kate, this isn’t the end of the world.”
“I know.” I shook my head. “It’s much worse.”
He let out a low laugh and pressed his lips against mine, giving me a deep, soul-searing kiss. “This is only temporary, Kate,” he whispered. “I’m doing this for us.”
“But you don’t have to. My inheritance is thirteen million dollars.”
“I know,” he said, kissing me again. “It’s also thirteen million reasons why your family will always have a hold on you. I won’t let anyone have a hold on me, Kate. I can’t live like that.”
“Every time something good happens in my life, it never stays,” were the only words I could say.
“I made a promise to you, Kate,” he said. “Have I ever broken one of those?”
“Not yet.”
“Not ever.” He looked into my eyes. “All you have to do is wait for me, and it’ll be like it once was, sooner than you know it.” He tilted my chin up with his fingertips and looked into my eyes. “Can you promise to wait for me, for at least two years?”
“Yes…” I let out a breath.” For as long as it takes.”
I need you to listen
James
I WAS OFFICIALLY MORE confused and conflicted than I’d ever been.
Every moment I was around Kate, I was torn between letting her in again and keeping her at a distance. I never detected deception in her eyes when we scraped the surface of the past, but she’d spent more than half her life being groomed on how to react, so I wasn’t completely sure.
I’d left her Human Resources folder untouched for weeks, held back on opening the emails I sent to her graduate school and her touring company. I wanted to trust her and truly start over, for everything she said to make as much sense as my numbers did.
It still doesn’t, though…
I drove to my office late Saturday night and pulled the folder from my desk. I stared at it for several minutes, felt Blue tugging on my pants leg, as if he was begging me to walk away and let it go.
I couldn’t.
I checked my email first, opening the “Just Trust Her” folder.
SUBJECT: STUDENT INFORMATION Request: Kate Kensington
Yes, Kate Kensington was a student at our school, and she graduated magna cum laude.
Edgewood Graduate School
I DIDN’T BOTHER OPENING the Human Resources folder.
I didn’t bother checking shit else.
She’s probably been lying to me this whole time…
It wasn’t just you
Kate
JAMES: Meet me at my condo at nine o’clock. I have a gift for you.
Me: Okay. ? I have a gift for you, too.
I made it to James’s condo twenty minutes early with a bottle of wine in tow. Tonight was supposed to be another one of our simple, “Let’s just watch a movie together and act like the past never happened” dates, but I couldn’t take it anymore.
I needed to talk to him about why I “moved on,” and I wanted him to be completely honest about why he never came back.
When I made it to his door, I could hear the familiar sounds of Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 filling the air. Typing in the security code he gave me, I stepped inside and immediately dropped my bag to the floor.
