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)
“Yes,” she admitted with a regretful sigh.
His hands wrapped around her upper arms and tightened a little, as if he were preparing to move her away.
But then his hold loosened…and, instead of forcing her away from him, his palms skimmed over the bare skin leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. They came to rest at the sloping curve where her neck met her shoulders. His left thumb traced the line of her collarbone.
“It pissed me off, hearing you sing it. Our marriage was a joke…but those four months before, Kenna. That was real. It was perfect. Yes, I hated the secrecy. Hated the fact that you didn’t think what we had was important enough to reveal to your family and the world. But when we were together, none of that mattered. Because it was—we were so…”
“Happy.” This time she was the one who verbalized what he appeared unable to.
He swallowed thickly, face ravaged by grief and anger.
“Hearing you sing that song, it felt like…like a mockery of that time.”
“No!” The word emerged on a vehement whisper. “No, Smith. That wasn’t my intention. That song… It represents the happiest time of my life. It was the only one that came to mind. I had no intention of singing, believe me. But when I saw it on the list…” She shook her head, helpless to explain but needing to find the words. Wanting him to understand. “I thought singing it would bring back some of that joy. Just for a short while.”
Her hands, quietly resting on his chest, crept upward into the warm cove of his neck, to the stubbled ridge of his jaw, until they cupped his lean, craggy cheeks.
“I keep making these…” Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. “These mistakes. Ever since coming here—which was mistake number one, I know—it’s just been one misstep after the other. And hello, perfectionist over here.” The uncharacteristic hello, coaxed the ghost of a smile from him. “I’m just such a mess right now, Smith.”
It was an admission she’d never made out loud. She always tried to convey an air of competence and complete control, even when she was falling apart inside.
Hearing those words spilling from her lips cracked her heart right down the middle and burst the floodgates—which had been straining beneath the weight of her emotions for weeks now—right open.
Her face crumpled and she sobbed. A quiet, tearing sound that came from deep within her chest.
He made an alarmed noise in the back of his throat and deftly moved her farther away from the pub entrance, to a dark, isolated corner right at the edge of the building.
“Don’t,” he implored in an anguished whisper. “Please, Kenna. I can’t stand it. Don’t cry.”
“I don’t-don’t know how to-to stop,” she wailed in despair, as the first tears slid down her overheated face.
His groan was muffled and so was the “fuck” he muttered against the wet skin of her cheek.
His arms engulfed her, wrapping her in his protective warmth. She buried her face against his hard chest, nuzzling close while the tears continued to fall and the sobs shook her body.
His hands stroked up and down her back and he whispered comforting words of encouragement into her hair.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“I kn-know,” she acknowledged, her voice wobbling alarmingly. “I know I’m wallowing. It’s against the rules to w-wallow.”
Oh, God, the woman was breaking his fucking heart right now.
“You’re allowed to wallow,” he reassured. “Just this once. I’ll wallow along with you, okay?”
The words were silly, inane, but they seemed to comfort her, and he tightened his arms around her protectively.
She seemed smaller, fragile. This was a Kenna devoid of her natural defenses. He’d caught glimpses of this vulnerability often since her arrival, but this was her stripped bare, naked and exposed.
The only other time he’d seen her cry like this was the night they’d lost their baby. But this? It was different.
Her tears back then had been of grief and fear. The woman weeping in his arms right now was crying like she’d lost everything she’d ever held dear. And Smith felt powerless to help her.
All he could do was hold her and comfort her and remind her that she wasn’t alone.
He was aware of movement to his left, and looked over to see Tina standing at the corner. She must have come looking for Kenna.
His sister looked concerned and alarmed. Her eyes were huge and questioning.
Smith shook his head, not relinquishing his hold on his weeping wife.
“I’m taking her home,” he whispered quietly. Kenna was so distraught she didn’t look up at the words. He wasn’t sure she even heard them.
“You sure?” Tina mouthed.
Smith nodded soberly. “I’ll take care of her.”
Tina looked conflicted, gaze liquid with sympathy. She was clearly reluctant to leave them there.
She lifted her phone and pointed at it meaningfully. Smith nodded, understanding that his sister would want a call and explanation later.