“I have my moments,” she shrugged, slowly sipping from her glass.
We sat in semi-charged silence as I finished the contents of my plate. I set it on the coffee table before leaning back into the couch corner opposite her and stretching my arm along the back. “Have you decided whether you will tell me why you’re here?”
Might as well try to ask while she was more relaxed than earlier today. I was still curious, and while I wouldn’t force her to tell me anything, I wanted to know.
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
Pausing momentarily, I decided just to lay my cards on the table. “I can let it go if that’s what you want. But is it? Do you want me to let it go? It seems like you’ve bottled something up, and it might help to tell a neutral party.”
From the myriad of emotions that crossed her face, I could tell she did want to let me in, and I wasn’t going to coerce her into anything against her will, but she had to know that I was concerned. This visit was as out of character for her as it was for me, and while I was enjoying being in the same place as her again, if she needed support to process going through something difficult in her life, I wanted to be that for her.
“Why do you care so much?” Her voice was quiet and guarded; her grip on her glass indicated I was making her feel uncomfortable. That was the last thing I wanted.
“Because I care about you, and if you’re going through something difficult, I want to be here for you to lean on.”
“Hah,” she scoffed. “You hardly know me.”
“I think we both know that’s not true, sunshine. We didn’t just fuck in that hotel room, and you know it. I talked to you about things I rarely discuss, and you did the same, so don’t pretend you know my feelings toward you. Because I can assure you, you don’t.”
“Whining about working too much and being upset that my brother found someone to spend his life with before me is hardly deep philosophical conversation.”
“Cut the shit, Kelly. You’re deflecting again, and I know how you get when you feel exposed. Or did you forget those whispered conversations in the middle of the night about how you weren’t sure anyone in your life took you seriously? This is me trying to take you seriously, so let me. Let me in.”
She frowned, placing her glass on the coffee table and settling back into her corner with the blanket in her lap grasped tightly in her fingers. “Because they still don’t. Which is why I’m in this fucking mess.”
“Talk to me.”
“Why? What’s the point?” I watched as a single tear tracked down the side of her face and decided that I would take matters into my own hands, literally.
“Come here,” I scooted toward her, holding my hand out as she avoided looking at me.
“You don’t…”
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t want. Get in my fucking lap and let me hug you. You’re hurting, and there’s no reason to try to shoulder everything on your own.” She laughed, scooting toward me and hesitantly leaning against my side. “Come on, don’t be shy. I’ve seen you naked. Get on my damn lap.”
“You’re bossy today,” she huffed, looking into my eyes as she scooted closer.
“This is nothing, sweetheart.”
Once pressed into my side, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my lap and tucking her head underneath my chin. Sometimes, you just needed a fucking hug, and I would give it to her.
“Nathan…” she started, trying to scoot herself off my lap.
“Just relax and talk to me. It might be easier if you aren’t looking at me. I won’t judge you, but I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out. I know you don’t think we know each other well, but I know you, Kelly. You take on everything by yourself, and you need to learn to let some of that go and accept help—and comfort—from people when they offer it.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” she whispered, letting out a stuttering breath as she relaxed against my chest. I slowly ran my hand down her loose hair, burrowing my fingers underneath to rub the tense muscles in her neck. “Part of this is my fault. I can’t figure out where I went wrong.”
“Start at the beginning. Or the end. Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.”
And then she started to talk. She told me more about her job and how she’d worked her ass off to be where she was in her department, reporting directly to the department head. I felt a stab of jealousy as she talked about her friendship with Tom but then settled down when she told me he was married and likely a new father by now.
But even I knew that didn’t mean anything. Being married and being a father didn’t make you some upstanding person. From the fucked-up things I learned about my father after his death, I knew that. No sixteen-year-old should have the rug pulled out from their seemingly boring life as I had.
When Kelly started talking about her co-worker, Trent, my hackles rose, knowing I wouldn’t like what she would tell me next.
“It started with little things. Snide comments about accounts I’d worked on or my friendship with Tom. Undermining my work in staff meetings and giving me dirty looks when I got praised by our supervisors. I don’t know when things changed from the harmless stuff…”
“Kelly, those aren’t simply harmless things. It seemed he was downright rude to you from the beginning, and you took it. You should never let someone make you feel your hard work doesn’t mean anything.” From her description of this guy, I wanted to pin him to the nearest wall and ask him about his problem with successful women. It seemed that he was never taught how to behave like a gentleman.