Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Wait. Was she offended?
Why? She should be relieved that it didn’t have a deeper meaning.
He ran a thumb over his lower lip and for a second Kenny was almost certain she saw a spark of amusement in his eyes, before his thick lashes lowered to hide whatever emotion gleamed in those green depths.
When next he looked at her, any hint of amusement was gone.
“Kenna, I’m the third grandson. I was never going to get the elaborate spoils like engagement rings. Nana Pat’s engagement ring went to Conrad as the eldest, and he naturally gave it to Kitty. And Granny Rita’s engagement ring went to Tina. Kyle and I were left with the random pieces. I like this ring, it was one of Nana Pat’s favourites, and I thought it suited you.”
Oh.
That was somehow worse.
It was a sentimental piece that had reminded him of her. That made it so much harder to part with while at the same time it felt so much less deserved.
Chapter
Twelve
She resumed her futile struggle with the ring, more determined than ever to return it to him.
His hand clamped around her right wrist to halt the movement.
“Stop that,” he admonished. “I don’t want it back.”
“But—”
“Kenna, I can’t stand the sight of it.” His voice was low and vehement and filled with enough venom to halt her in her tracks. He was frowning down at the ring, lips downturned, brow furrowed, eyes roiling with intense emotion.
Kenny’s fingers curled into a fist and she dragged her left hand to her chest and held it there, with the ring turned toward her in an unconsciously protective gesture. She pulled her other hand from his grip and covered her left with it, hiding it from his sight.
“All I see when I look at it is failure.” Those burning, angry eyes leaped to hers. “And our marriage in shreds around our feet.”
“Hi again, so sorry for the wait.” The unexpected intrusion of Suzie’s cheerful voice into the fraught moment was jarring.
The woman hesitated when she picked up on their tension and her smile dimmed somewhat.
“Um…” She lowered a couple of plates to the table in front of them. “Two croque monsieurs.”
She quietly and efficiently arranged their cutlery and condiments on the table.
“I’ll be back in a second with your coffee,” she told Smith. “Would you like another cappuccino?”
The last was directed at Kenny, who shook her head, unable to summon up even so much as a smile.
Smith and Kenny waited in awkward silence until the woman returned with the coffee, along with a pretty ceramic milk jug and a tiny, ornamental jar of sugar cubes.
“Enjoy,” Suzie invited, scurrying away with indecent haste.
Kenny and Smith stared at their identical orders. It was unsurprising, really. They’d always had similar culinary tastes.
“Looks amazing,” she said, even though her appetite had fled completely.
Smith made a sound of assent and lifted his knife and fork. They ate silently, the joy gone from the experience and the morning for Kenny. All she wanted right now was for this to be over.
The croque monsieur was delicious, the best she’d ever tasted. A shame Kenny was unable to appreciate it.
She managed less than half before pushing the plate aside.
Smith frowned at the gesture and pointed at her plate with his fork.
“Eat.”
“I’m full.”
“You barely touched that.”
“Why did you sit down with me?” she asked and he swallowed the bite in his mouth, washing it down with a sip of coffee before resting his elbows on the table and folding one fist over the other.
“Because it would have been petty to pretend I didn’t see you.”
“And yet, we both would probably have enjoyed our breakfast more,” she retorted.
His shoulders shifted and he made a gruff sound that could’ve been denial or assent.
“I’m tired,” she told him and his eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you? We keep having the same frustrating conversation. It just goes nowhere. In fact, I’m not even sure why we’re even talking about this all again when you’ve pretty much slammed the door on our marriage. There’s no point.”
“I’ve slammed the door?”
“I followed you Riversend to talk. You didn’t want to talk. You’d rather continue blaming me for everything that went wrong in our marriage. Repeatedly. I get the point. We’re done. Over. I surrender.
“Now I’d like to take some time to rest and recuperate before heading back. I was minding my own business, sitting here waiting for my breakfast. I didn’t ask for you to plant your arse at my table only to rehash more of the same shit again.” She held up both hands, palms up. “Can we just stop? Please? I’m so exhausted.”
He watched her, conflicting emotions parading across his face—confusion, concern, anger, resentment, sympathy, to name a few—before he ruthlessly shuttered them. Nothing but a blank mask was left in their place.
He nodded rigidly and picked up his knife and fork again. He took another couple of bites and then sighed.