Page 85 of Faking Forever
Surprised that this was the direction he’d chosen to take the conversation, Kenny shook her head.
“After a few hiccups in the beginning, I’m confident the department is in good hands. I haven’t checked in at all since arriving here.”
“Seriously?”
Kenny couldn’t blame him for being taken aback.
Work had always been her excuse to avoid any kind of emotional turmoil at home. Her crutch to lean on when she wanted to escape from the quietly stifling confines of her marriage. Her reason for getting up and carrying on two days after her miscarriage.
“Who did you leave in charge?”
“Dr. Rachel Khumalo.”
“Hasn’t she been gunning for your job for years?”
“She’s the only one qualified to run the department. And the only one I trust to do a competent job.”
“Aren’t you afraid she’ll make a play for the department while you’re gone?”
Kenny turned to face the passing scenery, resting her aching forehead on the cool glass of the window.
“Honestly? She’s welcome to try. I’ve built one of the best public health oncology departments in the country, and if the board doesn’t see my worth after the work I’ve put in, then maybe it’s time to move on. There are plenty of other hospitals—public and private—that would be happy to have me. I’m just too mentally exhausted to fight them right now. If they want Khumalo, then so be it.”
She’d left because fighting for her marriage was more important. But that fight turned out to be lost before she’d even fired her first salvo.
Yet over the course of the last six days, she’d come to understand that she needed to fix whatever was broken inside of her. That fundamentally flawed part of her that was afraid to lovebecause love meant loss. Afraid to trust, because trust meant disappointment.
Andthatwas the most important thing she needed to focus and work on right now. Because if she didn’t repair that damage, she would never be happy.
Chapter
Sixteen
“Hello, Harris,”Kenny greeted, when they arrived back at her place to find the man waiting on the porch for them. “I assume you’re here to help chuck out the old and haul in the new?”
Harris, who was sitting on the porch steps, nodded wordlessly.
“And you always just do whatever Smith asks of you?” Kenny questioned, as she limped up the steps toward the tall man, who was pushing himself upright and unfolding his arms lazily.
Harris surprised her by grinning, the first hint of warmth he’d shown Kenny since her arrival in town.
“Pretty much,” he drawled. “I’ve been his little bitch since primary school.”
“You’ve known each other that long?” She was ashamed that she hadn’t known that before now. Was it any wonder Smith was getting rid of her? Who would want to be with someone who didn’t know something as fundamental as that about him?
She shoved the thought aside, not wanting to get bogged down in regret again. At least not right now, not with the men there to witness the spiral.
“Since we were babies, really,” Smith said as he undid the ratchet straps around the sofa. “Our parents are friends. I can’t remember a time we didn’t know Harris and Greyson.”
“How’s your foot?” Harris asked, ambling past her and down the steps to help Smith with the straps.
“Getting better. I have to keep the cast on for another couple of weeks to make sure the foot heals properly.”
“Yeah, I get it. You stand a lot.”
“Yes.”
“Glad you’re feeling better.”
