Page 39 of Faking Forever
“Yes. Thank you. But…”Be brave, McKenna. “I need help getting out of here, I’m afraid.”
The door handle turned and he was in the bathroom seconds later. It was a surprisingly large, luxurious bathroom for such a small cottage, but it instantly shrank when Smith entered it.
He paused when he saw her, his frown raking over her from top to bottom and then back again.
“Those are my shorts,” he said, tone accusatory, and her cheeks went right red. “Andmy shirt.”
“They’re comfortable. It’s not like you missed them. I’ve used these as my pajamas for months.”
“I’ve never seen you in them.” He looked seriously affronted. And she wondered what disturbed him more, the fact that she’d appropriated his clothing or the fact that he hadn’t known about it.
“Well, we usually…skippedthe pajamas whenever we…” Her voice trailed off. Not sure what the appropriate term would be in this instance.
“Fucked?”
She winced. Notquitethe word she would have settled on.
“Yeah,” he continued. “And other than when we were getting naked and busy, I got the sanitized version of you. Perfectly dressed for work or going out. Or in the pristine sports gear you wore to the gym. Always immaculate. Not a hair out of place. Today is the mosthumanI think I’ve ever seen you.”
Yet another effective blow. Painful because it was so heart-wrenchingly accurate.
“I like to look neat.” It was a weak defense and they both knew it. “Well-presented. Nothing wrong with that.”
“It’s okay for yourhusbandto see you less than perfect, Kenna. The night we lost the baby…” He paused, clearly waiting for her usual correction. But Kenny didn’t say it. Couldn’t say it. Not anymore.
When it became clear that she wasn’t going to correct him, his lips thinned, and she caught a fleeting glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes before he continued. “That night…the worst fucking night of our lives was the only time you let me catch a glimpse of the woman beneath all that shiny perfection. Shame it took a shattering loss to reveal it.”
He shook his head.
“After that…nothing.You went back to being unreachable and untouchable.”
“I know.” Confusion shadowed his face at her regretful acknowledgment, followed by panic, before he immediately closed himself off. It was a taste of her own medicine. Shutting her out the way she’d always done him.
“Enough,” he decided. “I’m sick of beating this dead horse.” Yet, he was the one who kept bringing it up.
“Something smells good,” she said, changing the subject for both their sakes.
He nodded, eyes grave in his expressionless face.
“Tina brought over a lasagna, homemade bread, and a salad while you were in the shower.”
“That was kind of her.”
“I think she was mostly checking to see if I was—wewere—okay. I think she’s worried we’re going to kill each other.” Or more likely, she was concerned that Kenny would say or do something to hurt Smith. Kenny could relate, knowing she was just as protective over her big brothers.
“Never. I’m a doctor. First do no harm and all that. And you… Well, you’d have to feel more than indifference toward someone in order to kill them, right?” she asked with a bitter twist of her lips.
Her little barb hit home, she could see it in the way his jaw clenched, but he said nothing in response, merely swinging her up into his arms without warning and carrying her into the kitchen.
The meal that followed was quiet and strained. Afterward, Smith cleaned the kitchen, while Kenny sat on the couch and applied some of the calamine lotion Tina had brought over along with their dinner to the worst of her bites.
She then buddy strapped her big toe to the one next to it. A painful process that she’d insisted she could do herself despite Smith’s protestations.
In the end he’d thrown up his hands in frustration and left her to it.
He made up the couch for her, told her to be up at six so that they could get to the hospital as early as possible, and retreated to his bedroom.
Leaving her to sit in silence, solitude, and sorrow.
