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38
KATE
My little striptease didn’t help anything. It’s as if I attempted to summon someone from the dead and got a lifeless husk in his place.
Days pass while I wait for us to recover, and we just...don’t. There used to be moments of affection between us—the quick flash of his smile, the graze of his fingertips as I’d pass by—but now it’s only sex. He still locks the office door in the middle of the day and bends me over the desk, or sets me on the kitchen counter at home, but it’s swift and compulsive, as if he hates himself for doing it and hates me for letting him.
I miss the other side of us. Only a little over a month ago, we went camping for the first time. He’d asked me if I was happy and I was shocked to discover the answer wasyes.
I wish it had lasted. I wish I knew how to get it back.
Jeremy calls to say Caleb has been shopping for rings, and it’s strange how little I care when normally news like this would send me off to stalk Lucie on Instagram or plot with Kayleigh.What did Caleb and I even do in the evenings?I hunt for good memories of him but struggle to find anything that isn’t related to Hannah or the pregnancy.
I barely see Beck anymore now that I’ve got his bookkeeping squared away. He works out in the morning but rarely eats breakfast, and he’s gone back to closing most nights.
Caleb’s moved on, the bar has moved on, Beck has moved on. I’m the one who remains behind—waiting for a single job to appeal to me the way the job at Holzig did or for my personal life to miraculously right itself.
The only person who hasn’t left me behind is Rachel. She texts to thank me for the blanket I sent, and a few nights later, she follows it up with a call.
“I’m sorry,” I burst out, before she can say a single word. “I’m sorry I haven’t come by.”
“Oh, Kate,” she whispers, and she sounds so sad for me that my own eyes sting. “I get it—believe me, I do. But you can’t go through your entire life avoiding all babies. Someday, you’re going to try again.”
“That seems pretty unlikely, what with Caleb shopping for engagement rings.”
She pauses. “I wasn’t talking about you and Caleb. Beck comes by here almost every day. Sometimes he takes Jane for an hour and lets me nap. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy who wants kids more than he does.”
A small hole opens in my chest, something hopeful and painful all at once. Is that even something I want? And if it is, did I just ruin any chance I had of getting it? “He’s never been in a relationship. There’s probably a reason for that.”
“Yeah, a reason like he was waiting foryou,” she says with a sigh. “I don’t know what’s up with you two, but he’s been miserable for days. And no offense, but the only thing with the power to make himthatunhappy is you.”
Ouch.I hate that.
When I end the call, I curl up on Beck’s sofa with my face pressed to my knees. How do I fix this? How do I put things back the way they were? As much as I wish I could just seduce him into complacency, that’s clearly not going to work. I have to apologize, except he’s never here anymore. Sure, I could wait until two AM when he’s trudging up the steps, exhausted, but I’m not sure he’ll hear me out.
Which means I need to go to him. I’m not sure how earnest I can be in a crowded bar, but I guess I’m about to find out.
I get dressed in the kind of outfit that will help my case—tiny skirt, leather blazer with nothing on beneath it—and drive across town.
As I walk through the parking lot to the bar, hope stirs in my chest. It’s like the big scene at the end of some romcom, where the guy who’s fucked up makes some grand gesture and all is right with the world.
At least I hope it is.
I take a deep breath and push through the doors, searching for his face, which is the only thing I want to see in the entire world right now. The room is crowded, but fortunately he’s so big I could find him anywhere. I take in the sharp jaw and the mouth I love and the soft divot under his cheekbone—and my heart beats erratically, too hard and too fast, and not at a steady pace. I could stare at him all day.
They’re busy, so it’s a struggle to even get past the foyer. He’s going to tell me to leave, but he’ll have to carry me out of here to make it happen. I’m not going anywhere until he talks to me, and I’ve got no problem at all with irritating him into a conversation if I must.
I push my way to the bar, but he’s now at the other end, and Suzanne—the object of his attention—has her hand trailing over those biceps I love, tracing his tattoos. Her fingers pull at his, and then, capturing his wrist in her hand, she leans forward and sucks his thumb into her mouth.
I don’t think. I all but knock over the two girls in my path and reach Suzanne’s side just as he’s removing his hand from her grasp.
He looks at me and there is nothing, nothing at all, in his eyes. No guilt, no concern. As if I have no right to question anything he does. My stomach drops. “Why are you here?” he asks.
“Why isshehere?”
It’s not at all what I’d planned to say.
He looks bored as he grabs the rag off the counter and flips it over his shoulder. “What’s the matter, Kate? I thought you, as you yourself said, ‘knew the deal.’ Has something changed? If so, I’m all ears.”
