“I can’t calm down!” I shouted. “Everything is all fucked up! Our cat is missing, and you didn’t tell me. You lied to me, Kline! I feel like you keep lying to me about a lot of shit.”
His eyes turned remorseful at my accusations, but they weren’t completely complacent either. “I know I should have told you about Walter, but I didn’t want you to panic.”
“You told me everything was fine and that Walter was good, but in reality, he’s sitting in an alley shooting up heroin!”
“Baby, I—”
“Do not baby me.” I pointed my index finger at him.
His eyes narrowed, and one thing became clear. Sweet, patient Kline was losing a little of both.
I knew I was probably being a little—okay, a lot—irrational, but I couldn’t help it. Ever since the whole Rose and Ruck debacle, my husband had made it a point always to be open and honest with me, but lately, he had been doing the opposite. I knew he wasn’t happy about my job situation, yet he just kept brushing it off and refusing to discuss it.
But it was bothering him. Big. Time. And, let’s be honest, the fact that it was bothering him was really bothering me.
And now, he’d lied to me about the cat. It felt like the icing on the dishonesty cake.
“Georgia,” he started to say, but I held up my hand.
“I can’t go there right now. I need to call Cassie and see if they’ve found Walter.”
I glanced around the kitchen, but I remembered the last time I had my phone was before I had hauled ass to our bungalow. “Shit! I think I left my phone on the beach.”
Kline grabbed my bag—that he had obviously carried inside for me—from one of the barstools and reached inside. “Here.” He handed the phone to me. “Call Cassie and see if they found Walter.”
I didn’t even hesitate. Three rings in, I hopped off the island and started to pace.
On the fourth ring, she finally answered. “Helloooooo, Wheorgie! How’s Bora Bora? Is Kline at least feeding you between—”
“Did you find Walter?” I asked, too worried to let her ramble any further.
“Uh…I guess Kline told you about that, huh?”
“Did you find my cat?” I snapped.
“He has a tracking device, Georgie. We could find him on the moon with the GPS shit your mother-in-law embedded under his skin.”
“Oh, thank God.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “I was about one minute away from booking a flight home.”
“You were going to leave your honeymoon because the dickhead…was missing?”
“Are you kidding me? My baby was missing! Of course, I was going to fly home to find him!”
“Slow your roll, Susie. No need to make me deaf,” she muttered into my ear.
“Is he okay?”
“Uh…yeah…I’m sure he’s just fine.”
“He’s not hurt? Was he scared? I can’t believe he was lost and roaming the streets of New York all by himself.”
“Walter is one tough little asshole. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Will you stay at our apartment for the rest of our trip? I think he could really use the companionship.”
“Already planned on it. Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta jet. I’ve got a shoot in about thirty minutes. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Sounds good. Oh, hey, Cass?
“Yeah?”
“If you lose my cat again, I will kill you.”
She scoffed. “You can guarantee I won’t lose that little bastard a second time.”
“Good.”
“Georgia, stop sulking and go blow your husband. Lord knows he probably needs the extra attention after watching you lose your shit.”
“I did not lose my shit!”
Kline snorted in the background.
“Sure you didn’t.” She laughed. “My money says you had half your shit packed and were already telling Kline to book a flight.”
Jesus, she knew me too fucking well.
“Shut up. Go snap pervy photos of naked men.”
“Later, Wheorgie!”
I hung up the call and met Kline’s gaze. He was still standing by the island, watching me with uncertainty and unhappiness dulling his blue eyes.
“Everything okay?”
I nodded and tried to collect the scattered pieces of myself. “They found him.”
“That’s good news.”
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed.
We just stared at one another, lost in my earlier mania and the deeper issues it’d brought to light. A cloud of hurt feelings and harsh accusations hung over our otherwise blissful honeymoon.
“Well…I guess I better go clean up the disaster area. I’ll make us some lunch once I finish, okay?” I called over my shoulder as I walked up the stairs toward our bedroom, hoping to have a few moments to find my way back to five on the emotional scale.
To my surprise, Kline followed me.
He sat on the bed as I started to empty my suitcase. “Come here, sweetheart.” When I looked to him but didn’t move, he gestured for me to come closer.
The second I was within his reach, he pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around my stomach. His face was pressed against my neck, lips brushing the sensitive spot below my ear. The intimate silence healed half the hurt, but some of it stayed, buried deep.