Every Wrong Reason

A crazy mistake.

Even though it was impossible to regret it completely. Mostly because I knew I would never have sex like that again.

I would never feel that hot again… like my skin was on fire… like his lips would turn me into unquenchable flames and his touch would incinerate every inch of me.

By the time I’d cleaned up the kitchen, the table filled with Legos and the living room, I had almost convinced myself that our sex life would have become dull and boring no matter what. It wasn’t the baby. It was life. It wasn’t the frustration of not conceiving. It was marriage and the years passing us by and everything that came between us.

And I had almost convinced myself to stop thinking about Halloween.

Almost.

But not quite.

Chapter Nineteen

26. I deserve someone who loves me for me.

When I walked through the door Christmas night, I had never felt lower. Christmas with my parents had been beyond draining. Even though Josh and Emily had been there with the girls¸ my mom had been in rare form.

It was like she went out of her way to remind me how alone I was. Not that she needed to try very hard. My single status had never been clearer.

On top of Josh and Emily and their undying love for each other, I had been forced to watch my parents dote on each other.

Christmas did that to people. I knew that. Even Nick and I had been able to get along on Christmas. But I always thought my parents survived by never touching each other.

Not this year.

I set my opened presents down on the kitchen table so I could bend over and greet A

I picked her up¸ unable to keep from holding her against my hurting heart. A single tear slid from the corner of my eye and I couldn’t figure out why I suddenly felt the urge to cry.

My parents usually grated against every one of my nerves, but rarely did they reduce me to tears.

Swiping the back of my hand against the silly show of emotion I didn’t understand, I decided that I was just overemotional. This was the first Christmas I had ever spent alone.

I was bound to be upset. And confused. And nostalgic. And heartbroken.

Those were completely normal feelings to have after walking into a dark, empty house with no one to greet me but my dog.

I scratched at A

She licked at my chin, anxious for me to get back to petting. “Did Nick stop by?” I asked the dog. She just kept licking me. “What else did he get you?”

She didn’t answer.

I flicked on more lights. I wasn’t afraid of Nick by any means, but knowing someone had been in my house while I was gone still freaked me out. I seriously needed to get his key from him.

I walked into the living room, needing to make sure he locked the front door after he left when I tripped over the new dog bed nestled up next to the couch.

“What in the world?”

A

“He spoiled you.” There was a big rawhide bone tucked in the corner and a new chew toy under the coffee table. “I suppose you love him more now. I only got you a new brush.”

She let out another big sigh and I took that as a yes.

“Well, listen, if his lawyer puts you on the stand, would you please pick me? I can spoil you too.”

Her brown puppy eyes lifted to stare at me with an indolent, “Yeah, right.”

I stuck my tongue out at her and walked to the front door. “He’s not going to get you. Get that thought out of your head right now.”

It still made me sick that he would even consider taking A

And I hated him for trying to.

The door was at least locked. That should have soothed some of my anger, but by the time I reached it, I was really starting to get worked up.

What had started as melancholy remorse quickly turned into outraged fury. How dare he try to take A

If he wanted this divorce as much as I did, then why did he have to make it so difficult?

Why couldn’t he just let me go?

Why couldn’t he just walk away and leave me to the embarrassing remnants of my shattered life?

When I turned around and saw A

I pulled out my phone and jabbed my finger at it. He had officially ruined Christmas for me.

Okay, maybe it hadn’t been that great to begin with, but this was the last straw. He had pushed me over the edge and he was going to get a piece of my mind.

“Did you find it?” his rough, low voice asked. There was no hello, no merry Christmas, only the slightly nervous question that stripped all the wind from my sails.

“The dog bed?”

“The picture.”

“What picture?”

“Were you calling about the dog bed?”

“I was… I was calling… What picture?”

“Where are you?”

“At home.”

His low chuckle carried through the phone and I felt my anger begin to disintegrate. “I mean, where are you in the house?”

“Oh.” I took a needed breath. “In the living room. By the dog bed.”

“Look up.”

I did. I looked at the far wall and at the new picture hanging there. It had an ornately golden frame. Antique, I thought immediately. The picture wasn’t of people, but words. I couldn’t read them from here. They were written with curly black letters on a soft gray background.

Even though I didn’t know what it said, I could tell that it matched everything perfectly. It looked amazing on the wall. It brought everything together and added a bit of flare.

But why would there be a picture on the wall?

“What is it?” I whispered.

“You should go read it?” His voice pitched lower, trying to disguise his nerves. If I hadn’t known him so well, I wouldn’t have noticed. But I did know him. I knew him so well.

I didn’t move.

“Kate,” he whispered as if he could see my feet stuck in place and the way my hands trembled. “Go read it.”

I shook my head, but he couldn’t see me.

“Please.”

It was the broken plea that scratched from his throat that made me finally move. I couldn’t say no to that. No matter how much I wanted to. No matter how much I wanted to believe I could move on from this man, I couldn’t. Not if he said please like that.

Not if he sounded like he needed me to look at this picture more than he needed to breathe.

I had only turned on the lamp in the living room, so it was still fairly dark as I walked over to the wall. I bumped into the coffee table and clipped my shin because I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to where I was going.

I found it harder and harder to swallow as I made my way to the wall. It took seconds, but I had myself so worked up by the time I reached the picture that I was worried I would pass out.

I propped one knee on a chair and leaned in.

Love that is enough.

Love that is big enough for two.

Love that is endless enough for more.

Love that is just between me and you.