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14
KENNA
Ifollow Derek down the stairs hesitantly. It’s really none of my business who’s at the door, but I’m curious, especially since whoever it is interrupted what could have been an important moment for me.
It’s not like I expected Derek to confess, to tell me that he’s fallen in love with me, or anything like that. But if I’m honest with myself, I secretlydidhope that’s what he was planning on doing.
I frown when Derek slams the door shut, cursing.
He’s flipping through paperwork when I get down to the living room.
“Is everything okay? What’s that?” I ask, curious.
“It’s fine,” he mutters, stalking past me and up the stairs again.
“Derek,” I start, but then he cuts me off.
“It’s none of your business, Ms. Lodge,” he barks, walking into his office upstairs and shutting the door.
Ms. Lodge? So, we’re back to that, are we?
Tears sting at the backs of my eyes and I fight them back, biting my lip. There’s no reason that I even need to be here, since Derek is home and can take care of the kids. I should have never stayed when he took the day off.
This is stupid. I don’t belong here. This is just my job. He’s just my boss. He’s made that abundantly clear.
I gather my things quietly and leave the house, heading toward my parents’ house.
I make it just a couple of blocks before I start to cry.
When I walk into my parents’ house, my father is nowhere to be found and my brother meets me at the door, his brow furrowed.
“Something’s wrong with Dad,” he says.
“Wh-what?” I blink, my eyes still feeling raw from crying all the way home.
“He’s locked himself in his office and Mom won’t talk to us,” Ryan remarks. “You’ve got to fix it, Kenna.”
He looks at me with something pleading in his blue eyes, so much like mine, and I take in a deep breath. It doesn’t matter what’s going on with me and my job. I need to be here for my family, too, and suddenly, I feel like I’ve been neglecting that part of my life.
I pull my much larger brother into a hug and he’s stiff the whole time but he hugs me back.
“Sorry I haven’t been home,” I say softly, and he pulls away from me.
“Don’t you start being weird too,” he teases, and I smile.
My brother isn’t the best with words or with asking for help, but I can always read between the lines.
When I get to my father’s office, the door is locked and I can hear hushed voices.
“She’s my sister,” my father says mournfully. “How do I do this?”
“It’s not your fault that she made those decisions,” my mother says.
I frown, knocking on the door lightly.
There’s a shuffling sound from behind the door and my mother opens it, finally, and gives a sigh of relief when she sees me. “Kenna. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“What’s going on?” I ask.
