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He nodded to a hightop table in the corner, nearest the window. “Have a seat if you like. I’ll serve us.”
Sweat emerged on the soles of Kenna’s bare feet as he rushed around pouring glasses of water and wine and plating the food he’d prepared, as if it were their first date and everything had to be just so. She stiffened.
Was it a date?
Had she squinted, she could’ve seen light shining through the entrance of the rabbit hole from whence she’d made her darling descent. How had it taken this long to realize she’d reached the bottom, that cold and damp place she had sworn not to go?
Kenna wanted to dwell in that darkness, with this man, no matter if he was a murderer or a seducer, or was afflicted with some other perversion of evil.
He, too, was the captor of her heart.
Somewhere amid the haze of her mental calculations, Dr. Merino had joined her at the table. They were seated across from each other, having a meal together, in his home.
She was terrified of the scene, romantic and real. It conjured dread greater than supplying suppositions for patient diagnoses or listening to the women recount their tales.
He extended his wine glass toward her to toast. “I enjoyed working with you this semester, despite my initial resistance. I hope grad school is everything you expect it to be, and that you find something akin to happiness in general therapy, as much as I’d like to see you go into psychiatry.”
“Six years of university is enough, thank you.”
“Cheers to that.”
They’d spoken little since digging into the food, a rice dish that had Kenna constantly suppressing threats of a coughing fit and refilling her water.
The silence flooded her mind with doubts.
Maybe nothing romantic lurked in the dinner invitation. Maybe it was a farewell, Dr. Merino’s way of tying up their professional relationship with a neat bow before sending her on her way.
He was pulling away from her.
Though he usually left the top two buttons of his shirts undone at the office, the flannel was buttoned up to the collar. However minute of an observation it may have been, Kenna took it as a searing slap across the face.
She realized she’d never voiced the question that had lived in her head since they first met.
“Dr. Mer—Dayton.” His eyes instantly flashed to her, as if he’d been waiting for her to speak. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a while but it always felt impolite.”
“Impolite?” he echoed.
“Your scars. How did you get them?”
“Car accident.”
“That’s what happened to your other car, the one before the Caprice? You crashed it?”
“It wasn’t entirely my fault. There was another driver involved. Pouring rain. It was … complicated.” He spoke into his plate. Either he was lying or he didn’t want to discuss it.
Soon, Dr. Merino was pouring more wine and changing the subject. “I hope what I revealed to you during the case study doesn’t change anything between us.” Solemnity shaded his face. “I’d hate to lose you.”
Her chest sang at the words, momentarily blind to their danger. Kenna had believed he’d meant to dismiss her that evening, but it was proving to be an arena for romantic admission.
Logic was quick in overtaking her foolhardy mind.
I’d hate to lose you.The phrase called to mind Charlee’s allegation of his clinginess. It signaled an attachment.
Was she another pawn on his chessboard? Others had played him and lost. But she was privy to their secrets.
She would try her hand.
“Whatever was said during our interview was for academic purposes. I promise it hasn’t influenced the way I look at you.”
