He points his chin at the straw. “Want to sit?”
“On the straw? With you?” I blurt out.
He gives me a lopsided smile. “It’s easier to stare up at the sky that way.”
When I hesitate, he lies on his back, and stares up at the skylight with his arms folded over his chest.
Nowhere near me.
After a moment, I do the same. I completely understand why he would prefer this to a sofa bed. It’s peaceful, and the straw is more comfortable than I’d expected. “This is really nice.”
“It’s a good place to think.”
“And much better than a sofa bed?”
“That too.”
“Kira?” Dom says a long while later, right when I’m in danger of falling asleep and rolling off the side to my death.
“Yeah?” I glance to my right, checking to make sure I’m nowhere near it. I’m not. I quietly sigh in relief.
“You won’t fall off.” He smiles.
“I thought I was going to fall asleep and wake up just before I hit the bottom when I inevitably roll off the edge.”
His smile grows. “Want me to move to that edge just in case?”
I stare at him in horror. “So I can fall asleep, roll over and then push you off! No.”
“You won’t. I’m not that easy to move,” he assures me, reminding me of his big shoulders, the way I touched his chest earlier, and the fact he’s lying inches away from me, on a springy floor of straw.
His smile fades as tension crackles between us.
I sit up. “Uh, we should probably?—”
“Go back to the house?” he interrupts.
I nod.
He climbs down the ladder first, assuring me that he’s there to catch me if I slip. My climb down is not nearly as scary as it was climbing up
He walks me back as the sky is turning gray and the sound of a car engine is heading further away.
“You have a letter.” Galen sticks his head out from a room that looks like his office, brandishing a thick white envelope.
“Me?” Behind me, Dom pushes the door closed, but stays close as I walk over to Galen to take it from him.
It’s addressed to me. Ms. Kira Matheson rather than Mrs. Kira Peters. Exactly like I wrote when I filled in the divorce papers. So it must be from the attorney in Chicago. With my heart in my throat, I tear into the thick letter and I could cry when I see what it is. The divorce papers.
Bryce signed it.
I didn’t think he would, but he has.
“Kira? Everything okay?” Dom asks.
“He signed the divorce papers,” I whisper.
No one says a word for several seconds.