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)
“Oh, you’re one of those,” Kenny said unthinkingly, amused by the other woman’s enthusiasm. She found it charming, and from what she knew about Fern’s background, the excitement was understandable.
“One of what?”
“A holiday whore.” It was a joke. Maybe a bad one? Kenny wasn’t great at small talk or quips. But she liked Fern and thought maybe…
Fern choked on her drink, then laughed. Warmly. Genuinely. And Kenny’s lips lifted in response to that sincere amusement. She was immensely gratified by the other woman’s obvious appreciation of her off-color comment.
“What even is that?” Fern asked, her voice still bright with laughter.
And Kenny leaned into that, inserting a dryness into her voice that she hoped the other woman would understand and appreciate, “Someone who lives for this shit. The decorations, the food, the tinsel…”
“Bah humbug and all that, right, McKenna?” Kenna froze at the bitter voice coming from just behind her. She’d been so diverted by the warmth of this exchange that she’d actually forgotten for the tiniest of moments about her husband’s approach. And his sour interruption leeched all the joy out of the moment. “Nothing as human as a little Christmas cheer for my frosty little snow woman.”
He kept his voice light, but Kenny could hear the acid dripping off every word and from the way the light dimmed in Fern’s eyes, she knew the other woman heard it too. Her stomach churned and humiliation burned its way into her gut.
Fern forced a smiled and tried to lighten the moment.
“I get how some people might think it’s a lot, but I love it.” She went on to describe her past Christmases, how she’d spent them at boarding school, without family. And while Kenny listened, she could barely hear over the heavy, frantic beat of her own heart. Smith was still staring at her, something close to hatred in his eyes, a cruel twist on his beautiful lips.
And, embarrassingly, her eyes flooded with tears. She knew he saw them, because that sneer faded and the loathing in his eyes retreated to be replaced with…concern? Regret? She couldn’t be sure. She cast her eyes down to the floor as she beat back the tears through sheer force of will.
When she felt capable of looking back up, it was to see Smith retreating back to the liquor cabinet. Fern’s valiant conversational attempts to alleviate the awkwardness had dwindled into silence, but she remained standing quietly beside Kenny. The stalwart silence coming from the other woman oddly made Kenny feel supported, even cared for.
She met her sister-in-law’s concerned and sympathetic gaze and gave her a small smile, saddened that their moment of almost friendship had been so thoroughly ruined by Smith.
She needed a moment to compose herself. She couldn’t break down here. Not in front of her family. This was meant to be a happy occasion. She wasn’t going to ruin it for everyone.
“Uh, excuse me,” she stuttered, brushing her hair back from her face while offering Fern another travesty of a smile. “I need to um powder my… Go to the bathroom.”
She fled without giving the other woman a chance to respond.
Smith was leaning against the opposite wall of the tiny bathroom hallway, staring into his drink. His head jerked up when she opened the door and his eyes shot up to meet hers.
“You okay?” The words were clearly reluctant. She cast a quick glance toward the living room. Beth and Gideon’s home was small and even with only four other people there, it felt crowded and lacked privacy.
“Fine.” She kept her response curt. To the point.
She’d ensured that no evidence of the fierce, quick bout of weeping she’d done in the bathroom remained on her face. His gaze was sharp, probing, and then he shrugged.
“You’re lying to me.” He couldn’t have sounded less interested if he tried. “But I don’t truly give a fuck anymore. You’ve been lying to me—and possibly yourself—throughout the entirety of this ridiculous marriage. Why should now—when we’re finally at the end of it—be any different?”
At the end of it? Just like that. He decided that it was over and that was it?
“Why did you come here tonight?” she finally asked, emotionally drained. “Was it just to humiliate me at every opportunity you could find?”
“I came because it’s expected. It’s always expected, right? We put on this big show for our families that nobody truly believes? Your family doesn’t like me. I don’t like them. And God knows my family and friends don’t like you.”
That stung. Kenny had tried to get along with the Jensons. Really hard.
She liked his sister. And his friends.
But she’d always suspected that they wondered why he was with her. This confirmation of that belief hurt more than it should.
“I’ve never…”
Her words were interrupted by her father’s booming voice.
The larger-than-life James Hawthorne had finally made his entrance. Smith’s head swiveled in the direction of the noise. The animosity between the two men had been mutual from the very beginning, but Smith had always at least pretended at civility in the past. Right now though? He did nothing to conceal his dislike of her father from her.