“How are you doing with that?” When I look at him strangely he clarifies. “With moving on?”
“It’s a day-by-day process,” I admit. “Some days are good. Others, not so much.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer.
“Will this make you even more overprotective of me?” I ask, needing to know. Wondering at his reaction. I’ve never told a man what happened to me before. I’m treading in unfamiliar territory.
He stares at me, as if unsure how to answer.
“Because you’re already pretty overprotective. Always running in and saving me.”
“Is that a bad thing?” His brow furrows.
I shrug. “It is if I become too dependent on you.” He starts to say something but I cut him off yet again. “I’m scared this might be too much for you to deal with, Ethan.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” he says.
The relief that sweeps over me is fleeting. I don’t know if he really can handle this. I still don’t know if I can handle this. A relationship after everything that happened to me seems so far-fetched, so hard to imagine.
“Maybe we need some . . . time. Some distance,” I suggest, hoping he’ll argue with me. Deny my wishes.
Stupid but true.
“Is that what you want, Katie?” He reaches for my hand and clasps it loosely in his. Too loosely. I want to feel his palm press against mine, our fingers intertwined. I want him to pull me in close and kiss me like he did against the wall in the club.
But he’ll treat me differently now. Like I’m a piece of fragile glass that could shatter at any moment.
“It might be best,” I say tentatively. “Just for a little while. I know you’re busy and you might need some time to wrap your head around this. What I told you.”
He stares at me, his lips parting, his fingers circling around mine. “I’ll give you all the time you need. Whatever you want.” As if he knows I might be the one who needs time, not him.
I think he might be right.
I hear Lisa Swanson’s voice on my television and it’s like a moment of déjà vu.
Exclusive interview with Aaron Monroe! Hear his side of the story.
Disgust fills me as I watch the commercial in a state of semi-shock. Flashes of old photos appear in rapid-fire succession. Ones of Katie, of my father, shit, a couple of me and my father together, and it ends with a photo of my dad now. I haven’t seen him in what feels like forever.
He looks old. Thin. Worn the fuck out.
“I have things to say.” He puffs out his chest, trying to look important but failing. He just looks like a ragged old man who’s been locked up for a long time. “No one has wanted to hear the truth. It’s time I set the record straight.”
I think I’m going to throw up.
Lisa appears in one last shot, that thoughtful expression on her face as she nods and listens to what my scumbag of a father has to say, as she does a voiceover telling us the date and time of this shit show she’s so proudly put together. She’s working it. Working it hard. I wonder if the network is going to give her a promotion for all of these exclusive interviews she’s nabbing. I bet she’d crap her pants if she heard from me, if I’d actually replied to that email she sent me. If she got me to tell my side of the story, which no one has ever heard.
Ever.
Can’t happen, though. William Monroe is dead and buried. I bet she’s given up on trying to find him, frustrated at her failure.
I get a little thrill out of that particular fact.
Seeing the commercial for the upcoming interview does spring me into action. I need to reach out to Katie and make sure she’s okay. I know I said I’d give her time, but fuck that. This news had to send her reeling. She could need me during this difficult moment.
If she needed you, don’t you think she would’ve reached out by now?
I ignore the shitty nagging voice in my head.
I’d backed off for her sake, granting her request, or so I tell myself. I’ve gone over that night at the club again and again, wondering if I came on too strong and scared her. Afraid my punching that guy who had his hands on her with no warning might have turned her off. She most likely abhors violence. Was probably disgusted by my primal behavior that night. I’d had my hands all over her, kissing her like I wanted to devour her whole.
I’d wanted to. My plan had been to get her back to her place and pick up where we left off. Until that asshole had to come along and ruin everything.
Maybe I’m the asshole who ruined everything. I truly thought I’d never know.
But now I’m an asshole who wants to make sure she’s all right. Forget all that we-need-time business. My father’s interview could hurt her. Devastate her completely, and I can’t have that. I vowed I would protect her all those years ago and I’m trying my damnedest to keep my promise.