Page 92 of Easy Reunion
I manage to plaster a smile on my face, I say, “Of course. My leg just cramped up for a moment. I was using the handrail to keep from falling. I told you, I think I’m dehydrated.”
“That’s it. No booze for you; you’re drinking water.” Angel loops her arm through mine and guides me. “Maybe we’ll sit inside where it isn’t so hot out,” she frets.
“No!” Her eyes lift sharply up to mine. I adjust my voice to a more reasonable level. “You know it’s cooler in the courtyard due to the trees than it is inside anyway, Angel. The kitchen only makes this place hot.” I give an apologetic smile to the server. “Sorry.”
He laughs. “Nothing I haven’t heard before,chère. If you’re ready?” He sweeps his arm out to the side, indicating the double doors facing the courtyard. Angel takes the lead; the waiter follows closely behind. I’m close on their heels, but I can’t resist looking back one last time.
Only, the beautiful sunny day seems to fade as the knockout blonde lays her hand on Ry’s arm and tosses her head back and laughs. He grins in response before picking up his sandwich.
I turn and follow Angel outside. But by the time we reach our table, I’m numb to everything around me. We could be at a greasy chain restaurant, instead of smelling the frying onions and peppers that permeate the air. Unable to process the roiling emotions of fear and heartbreak simultaneously, I order the same thing Angel does and pray I can choke it down as well as I’m managing to keep down my tears.
* * *
It’s aboutnine when I hear the back door unlock. I’m sitting on the sofa in Ry’s office. I’ve been waiting for him to come home so we can talk.
All I want is for him to talk to me.
I’ve been over every moment, every conversation, in my mind since I dropped Angel off. Did I apologize enough? I think frantically. Ry said he understood my reaction to what happened in here that first day, but maybe what I said didn’t penetrate. Perhaps he needs to understand what was going through my head.
Rubbing my hands up and down arms covered in a thick sweatshirt, I’m chilled despite the brutal temperatures. I need to understand what’s wedging itself between us. Hearing his footsteps on the hardwood before the carpet runners muffle them, I become more anxious.
“Jesus, Kelsey, you scared the crap out of me.” Ry jumps back before I’ve spoken. “What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”
“Missing you,” I admit softly. For a moment, his face softens before the bland look drops back down. God, I hate that expression. Does he even realize he’s been giving it to me? “I was hoping we’d have a chance to catch up since I haven’t seen you all week.”
He sighs as if a sullen child was irritated they couldn’t go to the movies. “Kelsey, not all of us have your ability to set our hours. Every quarter at this time, I have to be in the office for ungodly hours to ensure people keep their jobs.”
“You don’t get a break? At all?” I ask, trying to get him to admit he left the office.
Just not with me—not when I asked.
“No. I was working the entire day. I still have a few hours of work to finish up.”
I feel the pain of the lie rip through me even as I think bitterly,Was that because you took a few hours to go off on a lunch date?“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Pushing to my feet, I hear files slapping against the desk when he calls out my name. I pause but don’t turn around, lest he glimpses the tears welling in my eyes. “Yes?”
“Are you feeling okay? It’s a million degrees out, and you’re dressed like it’s winter.”
He notices the fucking sweatshirt, I think with wild amusement. “Don’t worry about it. You’re busy. Remember? Good night, Ry.” I start to make my way out of the doors of the study, wondering if it’s worth it to have a conversation with him at all when he calls my name again. Frustrated, I swivel around. “What?” I ask exasperatedly. “You said you have work to do.”
His face is wounded as I lash out at him. “I…I’m worried. If you’re not feeling well, that is.”
I bark out a sharp laugh. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing you can catch.” After all, broken hearts are entirely one-sided, aren’t they?
As if in slow motion, he drops the folder he’s holding to the desk. “You were waiting to talk to me.”
“And you don’t have time right now. It will keep for now.” We’re ten feet from each other but it feels greater than that. “Good night, Ry.”
“Good night, sweetheart,” he whispers.
And with that, I charge out of the study like the fires of hell are licking at my heels. Quickly I dash into Ry’s room, even as I’m wiping tears from my eyes. I grab my purse, intent on leaving. I need to write. I have to pour out this pain somehow.
And I refuse to do it punishing myself because a man is beginning to make me feel like less than my worth.
I’m dashing through the house when I come up short in the kitchen. Ry’s standing there with his head bent forward, arms braced on the kitchen counter. “You were just waiting up to tell me that you planned on leaving?” He doesn’t bother to look at me.
Starting to move around him, I say, “I was planning on staying, but if you’re going to be up all night working, then I’ll go home and do the same.”
“Why don’t you go get your computer and come back here?” His jaw is ticking. As if it’s taking everything in the world to make the offer.
