“You’re an ass, man.”
“What?” he asks, like there’s nothing wrong with his comment. “Oh, I forgot. It’s Wednesday. Therefore I cannot speak the truth.”
I shake my head. “Sore loser,” I mutter.
“I didn’t lose. Hell, you didn’t even give me a chance to get in the game. Some of us are stuck here all day instead of on a television set kissing hot actresses and lying to beautiful makeup artists.”
I see the little frown that appears between Katie’s eyes as she listens. “I don’t lie, you dickwad.”
“Everybody lies.”
“Somebody didn’t get his nap out today,” I needle, knowing that will piss him off so bad he’ll just leave. And he does. Kurt whirls his chair around to face me, his expression filled with bitter resentment.
“Sometimes I hate you,” he spits, and then he wheels himself around the bar and down the hall to his room where he slams the door shut.
“Is he okay?” Katie asks cautiously.
I shrug. “He’s just got issues. That’s all.”
“Is he always like that? I mean, the first time I met him . . .”
“He was on his best behavior. Smitten, I guess you could say. But yeah, that’s more his normal state of douchiness.”
I’m matter-of-fact about it because I’m used to it. Kurt feels like he has a million reasons to hate and resent me. I only understand one of them.
“Why does he resent you so much?” Katie’s eyes are puzzled. Then she starts to stammer, like she regrets her question. “I—I mean, he seems to, anyway. Not that it’s any of my business.” Her voice trails off as she drops her gaze down to her hands where they’re fiddling with her napkin.
I laugh, reaching across the bar to still her fingers. “Hey, it’s fine. You can ask me anything.”
“Okay, then why does he seem to resent you so much? Is it just because of his handicap?”
I resume assembling the salads that will accompany the filets I’ll be grilling. I lay slices of cucumber on each one as I answer her. “He thinks that the reason I never went to the cops or social services, the reason that I kept my mouth shut, was because I was weak. He thinks I didn’t love him enough to get him out of there. I never told him that everything I did I did to spare him.”
I hear Katie’s gasp. “But why? Why would you let him believe that? When you sacrificed so much for him. Why?”
I glance up to meet her horrified eyes. “Because it would’ve eaten him up with guilt—knowing that I stayed around because of him. Knowing that I kept taking a beating so that he wouldn’t have to. And I didn’t want him to have to carry that around for the rest of his life.”
“Oh God, Rogan,” she whispers. Her face is pale, like she can literally feel the pain of it all.
“It’s fine,” I tell her with a smile. I’d rather blow it off than this end up in pity. It’s probably dangerously close already. “We both survived.”
“You never said what happened to your father.” I can tell that she wants to change the subject as much as I do.
“He’s gone. Long gone.” Before she can ask more questions or fumble through platitudes, I slap my hands together. “All done,” I tell her, setting the full salad bowls aside and pouring each of us a glass of red wine. I come around the bar and push one stem into Katie’s fingers as I take the platter of seasoned meat. “Come on. Let’s go grill.”
Each day that has passed this week has brought on a new sense of urgency to enjoy every second that I can with Katie. Things in Enchantment are different. This place seems separated from reality, like the real world is on a parallel plane. Real, but not here. Somewhere else. Somewhere that can’t touch us, can’t touch what we have together. I feel like once I leave here, I can never come back. Like I will have lost Katie and whatever this is between us.