Page 277 of The First Time
"Or what? Will you punish me for being bad?"
"I'm going to do what I can to respect you, Kat. I expect the same from you." His gaze is intense. "Understood?"
"If you want respect, then respect me. I asked you for something. You didn't reply."
He stares back at me.
I can't hold his gaze. My eyes go to my ring. It's still catching all the light.
"You like it?" His voice is soft. Almost like he actually cares about my reaction.
"Does it matter?" I do like it, though I'd like it a lot more if it was from someone who cared about me. If it symbolized love instead of bullshit.
"Yes." He kneels next to the bath, bringing us eye to eye. "It suits you."
"I'm expensive and showy?"
"You're beautiful and understated." He offers his hand. "I want this to be easy for you."
"It will be easier if you stop saying that. And if you explain." I dip my head into the water. I feel cleaner instantly. Like the bath is washing away all the hair product and makeup. All the stuff that makes me Blake's pretty, fake fiancée and not Kat.
Blake stares at me, studying me.
I wipe the makeup from my eyes. "Why did you ask me to marry you?"
"The same reason I asked you to play my girlfriend."
"Helpful."
"I wanted to make someone happy."
"Who?" I squeeze shampoo into my hands and lather.
Blake motionscome here. When I move closer, he combs the shampoo through my hair.
"I can do that," I say.
"Let someone else help you for once."
"I don't need help."
"Accept it anyway." He runs his hands through my hair. It's soft. Gentle. Loving. "You remember my mother?"
"Meryl. Of course. She was sweet."
"And weak. She could barely stand." His voice is soft. Hurt. "She's not supposed to drink with her medication, but at this point, I don't think it matters."
I don't like the sound of that. "Why not?"
"She has liver disease." He shakes his head. "I should have convinced her to quit drinking. This wouldn't have happened."
"You're her kid. You can't convince her to do anything."
His eyes go dark. "I could have. She knew better. We all knew better."
"Maybe she... maybe there are treatments." Oh. It hits me all at once. There are no treatments. This whole charade is for his mother's benefit. It must be because—
"She's dying, Kat." He presses his palm against the porcelain. "We thought she had a year, but things took a turn for the worse. Best case scenario, she has three months."
