“Could we just have a little time?” I asked.
“Of course, ma’am. Take all the time you need.” The men excused themselves.
Kane and I stood there silently, separated by a good many feet. My fingers were cold. It was an overcast foggy Wednesday morning. It was a strange fog that seemed intent to linger rather than burning off as the sun rose. It wasn’t misting; it was more like the fog was thick enough you could feel it on your skin, and everywhere I looked, brown, red and yellow leaves littered the ground. Frankly, it was my favorite kind of day. The kind that made me want to curl up in bed with a warm blanket and take a nap. The kind of day that deserved something hot in a mug held between one’s hands to keep them warm.
It was also an exceptionally confusing day, and I had no idea what to expect from it. I was angry. I was hurt. And it was the most confusing thing in the world feeling those things while I was heartbroken for Kane and his loss. Loss was a weird thing in this instance. His father was not a good man. I’m guessing he’d always been flawed in some way. Perhaps Kane’s mother had gotten to the point where she couldn’t handle the man anymore. I couldn’t fault a woman for that. I could, however, fault her for leaving Kane behind when she ran. All I really knew for sure was that she was gone before Kane was even a year old—and the reasons and why they might matter left town with her.
I watched him, but he wasn’t moving, and he remained silent. I wanted to touch him, hold him, be close to him. I was also terrified to, because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to let go again. And I needed to.
“Why did he have to hate me?” he asked, his voice barely loud enough for me to hear.
Not going to him wasn’t really an option after those words. I walked to him, clutching the sides of his waist from behind his body and resting my cheek between his shoulder blades. “I don’t know,” I said quietly in return.
He reached for my hands, pulling them to wrap around his waist. “We deserved a better life than this.”
I hated how quiet his voice was. It was a whisper, and it was choked. But he was so right, and I nodded, never pulling my cheek from his back. “Yeah, we did.”
We were silent for a while, and I listened to his heart beat. I could feel his inhalations shudder through his chest on occasion as though the emotion was coursing through him in waves that would rise and fall.
“I need you to go somewhere with me. It’s important.” He turned toward me, resting his palms on my shoulders for a moment, and then he let them run down my arms to my hands. “And I need you to do something for me.”
I stared at him, but I could feel my brow furrowing.
He tried to smile reassuringly at me, but it fell, and he looked away. He took his time looking back, and when he did, he didn’t even attempt to smile. “Just … just love me for a little while longer… That’s all I’m asking. A fraction of the rest of your life where you can … love me unconditionally and forgive me no matter what…” He nodded, but his expression was questioning, and his nod was nothing more than his desperate need to see me do the same. His eyes glossed over. “I’m begging you for that. Just for right now. You can take it back later. I promise, I’ll let you. I won’t even try to talk you out of it.”
I did nod then. “Okay.”
His lips pulled up slightly, and they didn’t fall this time, but his eyes were still glossy. “This isn’t going to be easy.” He took my hand and pulled me toward the nearby parking area, not giving me a chance to ask what that meant. I’m not sure I’d have had the nerve to ask anyway.
As we neared, I took my keys out of my coat pocket. He reached for my hand, taking them from me.
“Do you mind if I drive?”
I shook my head, and he opened my door for me before rounding the car to the driver’s door. The undertakers were standing nearby, politely waiting for us to leave. Kane lifted a hand in their direction, and they both nodded.
We headed toward his house once we were on the road, and I thought perhaps that’s where we were going. My mind instantly went to the way things had been up until a week and a half ago. I thought about making love to him, and I wondered if he initiated such a thing would I stop him, would I be able to say no to him. But that couldn’t be what he wanted from me. He’d said this would be difficult. Making love to him was all sorts of things for me. Difficult was not one of them. It was exceptionally easy in a way sex had never been for me before.