Page 22 of Before We Say I Do

“Yes, but I know you’re not going to like what I have to say, so could you just give me a chance to explain before you respond?”

He noticed the tension in her eyes, the anxiety that threaded the crease in her forehead.

“Borboleta,” He moved toward her, his towering frame a blanket of heat that melted the frost she’d brought in with her from outside. He placed his hands on her shoulders, “Calm down for me. I’m listening and have been waiting for you to unburden yourself.”

Her brows dipped. “What do you mean, been waiting?”

“You don’t think I can tell when something is bothering you?”

Her eyes widened. “But you didn’t say anything.”

“Because I know when you’re ready to confide in me, you will.”

She trembled, feeling all the more pathetic from holding this from him. Her eyes fell from his, but slipping a sliding finger under her chin, he lifted her eyes back to his gaze.

“Whatever it is, is not as bad as you think. We can get through anything.”

“I’ve been visiting Dexter,” she blurted.

His gaze amplified just a bit, then dropped into a concerning stare.

“I can explain,” she sputtered. And he waited.

She moved from his shadow, folding her arms and beginning to pace in front of him.

“My dad is not well. He’s been in a dark place since the kidnapping went down.” She paused her pacing, then turned to him, massaging her fingers as she explained. “He blames himself for what happened. All of it. He’s adamant that being so close to Dexter for so many years, he should have noticed his wrongdoings.” London sighed and begin pacing again.

“No amount of conversation between me, my mom, or anyone else is getting through to him. So,” she paused, her eyes lifting to him. “I did the only other thing I knew to do. I went to visit Dexter at the corrections center.”

Kyle inhaled a deep breath and rubbed a palm down his face as he exhaled.

“I was hoping,” London rushed to say, “that if I could get Dexter to speak with my father, to tell him it isn’t his fault that he didn’t catch on to Dexter’s misdeeds, that maybe my father would come out of this depression. I figured it was the least Dexter could do after all he’s done.”

“Did he?”

London massaged her fingers more. “He told me he would, under one condition.”

Kyle locked his jaw, knowing manipulation was coming next.

“If I would visit him twice a week for a month.”

Kyle’s gut knotted, and London could see his gaze going from concern to anger.

“You’re mad.” She nodded. “I knew you would be. I’m sorry.”

“So, you’ve been visiting him for how long now?”

“Three weeks. Today was supposed to be my final visit, but I never made it this morning.”

They stared at each other for a long time.

“Kyle.” She took a step forward. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have kept this a secret, but I had to do it. I’ve never seen my father this way. He’s always been this happy, enthusiastic, optimistic teddy bear. Now, there’s no laughter in his voice, he’s robotic at times like he’s living life just going through the motions.”

She pleaded with her eyes for him to understand. “I can’t stand to see him like this, and my mom is worried sick.”

“London.”

She closed her mouth. Rarely did Kyle call her London. But she listened for what he had to say.

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