I turned her in my arms to face me and bent down so our eyes were level. “Listen to me. You and I are permanent. I love you and everything that makes you you, Kari Stanley. I guarantee you I’m not leaving you and if you think you’re leaving me, you have another thing coming.”
A small grin twitched her lips and I knew I was breaking through.
“I. Love. You. Got that?”
She nodded, her cheeks pinking.
“Marry me?”
“Oh, Max,” she laughed, pulling away.
“What? I’m serious. Marry me?”
She bit her bottom lip before whispering, “Not tonight.”
KARI
My entire body ached. From head-to-toe, I felt like I had been put through the wringer or hiked a sloping, winding trail. But in reality, I had been worked over by Maxwell Jacob Quinn.
After hearing the truth and watching me break to pieces, I had expected him to ask for some distance. I was sure I’d looked like a complete nutcase. Instead, he had carried me to bed and made me forget the entire night had happened, that I had ever worried he’d leave me. He made his intentions crystal clear—he wasn’t letting me go.
The soreness was a pleasant reminder of him, of the words he had whispered in my ears, of the ways his tongue had licked away every bad thought. The way he took his time, kissed away every doubt, used his hands to prove to me that he was still there. Max had a way of knowing just what I needed, of knowing that sometimes I needed to be shown instead of told.
I tossed back the comforter and stretched before climbing out of bed and wrapping myself up in Max’s discarded robe. It was black, entirely too big, and had a small hole in the bottom of one of the pockets. But it smelled like him and I needed to be wrapped in his scent to start the day.
He had kissed me before he left, apologizing about having to leave me to go into the office on a Saturday morning. I hated that he had to go, but his sense of responsibility was one of the things I loved most about him.
I brought the fabric up to my nose and I descended the stairs, breathing him in while Titus nipped at the back of the terrycloth. I opened the back door and let him out to potty before I started the Keurig. I went to open the fridge for my creamer, when a post-it caught my attention:
I removed it from the fridge, which was against our little game, but I wanted to save that one. I took out the pad of Post-It’s and the Sharpie and wrote:
I fixed my coffee and added the creamer until it was a perfect golden color. I swiped my phone from the counter and made my way to the sofa, nestling in. I sipped the drink, the routine of it just as much as the liquid itself. I unlocked my phone to a missed call, but I didn’t recognize the number and there was no message.
I sipped my coffee, hoping it would release the knot in my stomach. Although Max had gone out of his way to show me he loved me despite everything, I still felt guilty.
Can I really do this to him? Even if he says it’s what he wants, can I stay with him, knowing what that means for his future?
I took another sip, willing the hot liquid to dissolve the twisted bundle of nerves in my body. I knew Max wouldn’t just up and leave me—it wasn’t his style. Even if he agreed with me that it was too much of a sacrifice to stay with me, he would do it in as nice of a way as possible. That’s how he rolled. Even that could take months and did I want another handful of months of his life wasted on me?
I need to find a way to give him an out. I need to figure out how to let him walk away without being the bad guy . . .
I pulled up the news and started to read the latest headlines when a number flashed across the screen.
I sat my coffee down and answered it. “Hello?”
There was a long pause before a voice answered, “Hey, Kari.”
“Blaine?” I sat up on the sofa, tossing Max’s favorite flannel blanket off of me.
“Yeah. I . . . um . . . I wanted to, I don’t know, check on you?” It was more of a question than a statement and I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t expect him to call me. I didn’t want him to call me.
“I’m fine. Nice of you to wait, you know, a few years to make sure I was okay. So sweet of you,” I spat. I heard the phone get tossed around some, the speaker muffling a little. I gripped my end tightly, the disbelief of hearing his voice quickly turning to anger.
He cleared his throat. “I should have called—”
“Yes, you should have!” I stood up, pacing the floor, the volume of my voice breaking something free in my soul. It was cathartic. “You should’ve called me. You should’ve turned the hell around and came back.”
The line was quiet. I knew he was running a hand through his hair, probably looking at the floor.
“How dare you show up last night? How dare you call me now?” I roared.
“Kari, please. Listen to me. I didn’t know you were going to be there.”
I laughed angrily. “Of course you didn’t. Just like I didn’t know you were going to be there or I damn sure wouldn’t have been!”
“I can’t blame you,” he said, his voice way more controlled than mine. “Look, can I take you to lunch or something?”
“No, you can’t. I have nothing to say to you.”