Tears were stinging my eyes as I sat on the bed. Absolute honesty wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
I fumed for a long time after he left. My dad tried to make me feel better by telling me that maybe Kellan wasn’t the right person for me. He stopped talking when my cold glare turned deadly. My mom was suspiciously quiet as she flipped through a wedding magazine; I had no idea where she got the magazine, but by the delight on her face as she scanned the pages, and her silence at my obvious displeasure, it was clear she was hoping Kellan and I would patch things up soon. And I wanted to. I didn’t like being angry with him. I didn’t like it when we snipped at each other.
I knew disagreements were inevitable, though. It was finding a way through the disagreements that made a relationship work, or broke it apart completely. Kellan and I had fought many times before, but it seemed like most of our fights were over the big stuff. We hadn’t had the tiny spats. Not really. This was all sort of new for us, and I really didn’t know how to handle it.
All I kept thinking about while he was gone was what he might say or do with Joey. Well, no, I didn’t really think he’d do anything with her. He loved me, considered us married. He wouldn’t break that for some floozy he’d had sex with years ago.
So was I scared over what he’d say? Well, no, I pretty much knew what he’d say. He’d call her names, tell her she was a huge mistake, and throw a wad of money at her, hoping to shut her up. I smiled at the image of him all ticked off. He was absurdly attractive when he was angry.
My tiny smile thawed my nerves. No, I wasn’t worried or concerned about Kellan in all of this. It was the unknown element. It was Joey. I didn’t know what she would do or say to him, and that made me anxious. And that’s exactly the reason Kellan didn’t want me to go. He did know her, used to live with her. He knew she had a fiery temperament. He was trying to protect me by meeting her alone, and I’d bitten his head off for it.
My anger faded as I considered Kellan’s view of the situation. He must be embarrassed. Not for the tape, but for the way it was exposed—in front of my parents and me. He wanted Joey appeased so she’d move on. He must have known that bringing me along would only drag out the process, or possibly even halt it all together. Surely Joey would say or do something that would offend me, and I’d end up going off on the woman. Kellan was probably right about having me stay behind. If I were him, I think I would have wanted me to stay behind too.
When Kellan finally came home about an hour and a half later, my anger had vanished. Everyone looked over at Kellan when he entered the house. He inhaled a deep breath as he shut the door. He cast me nervous glances, not ever fully turning to look at me. His hair was dripping with sweat and his arms glistened. I figured he’d decided to go for a hard run after all. Maybe he’d needed it after dealing with that trollop.
Knowing I needed to apologize, I set down the notebook that I’d been writing in and cautiously made my way over to him. He looked away from me and murmured something about needing a shower before heading out to the airport. A slice of pain went through me at the thought of him leaving, but right now, his avoidance was concerning me more. As I walked into the entryway, he turned and bounded up the stairs.
“Kellan?”
He disappeared around a corner, but tossed out, “I’ll be right back . . . just need to clean up.”
I tried not to interpret that in any way other than honesty; he was sweaty and wanted to be fresh for his trip. Briefly glancing back at my parents, I followed Kellan up the stairs. He was examining himself in the bathroom mirror when I caught up to him.
“Kellan?” I asked again.
He looked over at me and I gasped. In the mirror I could see an angry red line of torn and bloodied skin. It started at his cheek and stretched down to his jaw. That’s why he wouldn’t look at me downstairs—that bitch had attacked him.
“She hit you?” My heart surged as I rushed up to him.
Kellan glanced at his injury in the mirror, then sighed when he realized I could see it in the reflection. “I’m fine, Kiera.”
Grabbing his face, I carefully twisted his head to examine the wound more closely. “She drew blood. That bitch drew blood!”
“It’s fine.” He smirked. “It’s not the first time a woman has cut me.”
I ignored his provocative reference to our steamy tryst in an espresso stand, my eyes watery. His smile slipped away from him as he examined my face as surely as I was examining his. “Things . . . didn’t go very well. Maybe you should have tagged along after all.”
I cupped his uninjured cheek. “Maybe it’s better that I didn’t. I probably would have gotten arrested for assault.”