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Uncovering Desire

Page 18

by Kacey Shea


  “I met Kevin at the beginning of sophomore year. I guess you could say it was love at first sight for both of us.” She lets out a harsh laugh. “What I thought was love. He was an engineering major, smart, funny, cute, and he made me feel special. He would plan real dates, bring me flowers, take me away for weekend trips to his parents’ cabin. Things got hot and heavy between us fast, and we were both young. Stupid and ignorant of all the things that could go wrong. We used condoms. Most of the time.”

  A surge of jealous rage boils through my head. The thought of her with another guy, without protection, and I can barely focus on what she’s saying. I release a harsh breath. I have no right to be angry about something that happened years ago, but when I look at Kate all I can see is mine. Mine. I don’t want her with anyone else. She’s stopped talking, is gazing off and I wonder what memories imprison her. I squeeze her hand, her shoulders slump and her voice quiets.

  “A few weeks before Thanksgiving vacation I got really sick. I thought it was the flu but after a few days I wasn’t better. I went to the health center and as I’m sure you can guess, surprise, I found out I was pregnant. They talked about my options and I left with a pile of pamphlets. I was so shocked. I knew I was in no place to have and raise a child but I knew Kevin would take care of me. He would know what to do.” After another shaky breath, she continues.

  “I called him and told him we needed to talk. He agreed to meet me at my dorm. When I opened the door to his smiling face I remember thinking how lucky I was to have him as my boyfriend. He brought chicken soup from the Student Union because he still thought I had the flu.

  “I told him I was pregnant. No finesse, you know, just blurted it out. He kept shaking his head, saying ‘This can’t be happening. I can’t be a dad. I’m not even close to graduating.’ Over and over. It started to piss me off. I was so scared, Jon, and he’s worried he’s not graduating for another two years. Finally he snaps out of it, and holds me. I felt so safe. For two minutes.

  “Because when he pulled back and looked into my eyes he said, ‘Don’t worry, Kate. We can take care of this. I’ll pay for the abortion.’ I couldn’t believe it. How could this man—this person who I thought I loved and loved me in return—say such a thing?”

  “Asshole.” She shakes her head and I want to find this Kevin guy and acquaint him with my fist. I hold back my anger, though. I’m worried if I interrupt Kate now she’ll never tell me the rest. I can’t believe she’s a mother.

  “I told him I wasn’t ready to make that kind of decision. Because a funny thing happened somewhere between hearing there was a tiny person growing inside and making my way across campus. I started to hope, to dream, to fall in love with my baby. It’s a surreal feeling to know there is this life inside of you.” She blinks and tears fall silently. I use my thumb to rub along her hand. She tilts her head and finally meets my gaze.

  “Kevin broke up with me. Said there was no way he could be a father. I was a wreck, emotionally and physically. It broke me. So when Evie came back from classes I decided not to tell her about the baby. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought she’d yell or leave me, I just couldn’t fathom more rejection. I told her Kevin had ended things. A few days later we flew home for Thanksgiving break. I was so relieved to be going home. I was scared too. I knew my parents wouldn’t be happy with my news, but I needed to tell them.

  “I waited until the day I was flying back to say anything. I think deep down I knew. My dad screamed and shouted. Called me a disappointment. Called me names—slut, whore, you can imagine. My mom just stood there. Didn’t say a damn thing. Didn’t hold me. Didn’t defend me. Didn’t ask me questions. Didn’t even have the decency to have my little brother leave the room. He wasn’t even twelve. I left for the airport six hours early and sat there thinking long and hard about my choices.”

  Tears flow freely down her face and I can’t stand to be so far away. I drop to my knees so I can cradle her cheeks within my palms. I use my thumbs to catch her tears.

  “I decided to have the baby, Jon. Despite what everyone thought. I even went back to the student wellness center. They gave me vitamins. I had my first ultrasound. Heard the heartbeat. I’ll always remember that sound.” She closes her eyes and soft sobs escape her lips.

  “You were so brave.” Her eyes snap open and her voice is eerily void of emotion when she finally speaks.

  “I wasn’t brave. I struggled to keep food down. I stressed and missed classes. How would I raise a child? How could afford it? I needed a job. I needed money. I needed help. I tried to be strong, but it wasn’t enough.” Kate turns her chin and lets her gaze drop to the floor.

  “Week of finals I started bleeding. Four days later I lost my baby.” Her body’s shaking. I pull her into my lap and loud sobs break free. I just hold her, unsure what to say. What else to do.

  Her pain, I understand it now. It’s not the same as my own but this is how she knows what it’s like to have someone ripped from your life unexpectedly. She settles and pulls out of my arms. We sit on the floor across from each other. Her fingers play with threads of the worn carpet.

  “So, now you know.” She shrugs.

  “I’m sorry, Kate. God, I’m so pissed at that shithead, Kevin.”

  “Don’t be. We were just kids. You know, I was mad at him for a long time too. But he was just scared. He’s married now and they have two kids. Works in Colorado Springs. I’m even friends with him on Facebook.” She laughs but I don’t find the humor.

  “You know, I learned early that people will believe what they want no matter what you say. That’s why I don’t care what people assume about me. What matters is what I think about me. How I see myself in the quiet, when no one is around. Can I stand to see the image in the mirror? I blamed myself for a long time. If I had eaten better. Maybe if I slept more. Learned to not be so stressed out...”

  “You can’t blame yourself, Kate. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know that now, but it wasn’t easy to accept. I was out of control for the first few months, nearly kicked out of school for poor grades, drank and partied way too hard, slept with people whose faces I don’t remember, names I didn’t know.”

  “What changed?”

  “Evie.” A smile plays at her lips. “She never asked me why I lost my shit. Never judged me. But one Sunday I came home, hungover, my own puke stuck to my jacket and she sat me down. Said she made me an appointment with a counselor on campus. That she loved me. That she was scared for me. That I was hurting her because I was hurting myself. She walked me to my appointments for the first few weeks.

  “It was tough. I didn’t like it. Didn’t like the feeling I got when we talked about my baby. My counselor happened to be a yoga instructor at a studio near campus and suggested I come by. Our sessions combined with my practice gave me the skills to get through. As you can tell, the yoga part stuck.

  “I still can’t bring myself to forgive my parents. That’s why we don’t talk. A parent should be someone who loves you, is there for you. No matter what. And they let me down when I needed them most.” The honesty and vulnerability she’s entrusting is utterly humbling. I look at Kate, my Kate, and realize there is a quiet strength beneath a sometimes loud, brash, sassy exterior. She’s tough as fucking nails.

  “I’m glad I punched your dad tonight,” I blurt, and Kate laughs.

  “Me too. You know the worst thing? When I came home for winter break. I told my parents I’d lost the baby. My dad looked me in the face and said, ‘It’s just as well. You can’t raise a baby. I just hope you learned your lesson and won’t come home knocked up again.’”

  Now I want to go back and kick his ass. What kind of parent says that? Now I understand why she doesn’t speak to her parents. I wonder who else knows this part of her.

  “You never told anyone else you lost the baby?”

  “No. Just my parents. I’m sure Kevin assumed I had an abortion. I never cared to talk to him again. And Evie…I’ve thought about tel
ling her so many times, it’s just—as time passed it seemed harder to do. And now. Now I just think it would bring her pain. I can’t put that on her. So besides my therapist in Colorado and the one here, no, I’ve never shared that with anyone else.” This surprises me. Evie and Kate are so close. And Kate is the star of the show. With the many friends that surround her, I’m shocked she’s never told.

  “How does that make you feel?”

  “Alone. So alone.” Another tear drops and I reach out to touch her face. She leans her cheek into my touch. “I’m the only person who grieves my baby. Who remembers. Just because I never got to hold my child doesn’t mean I don’t love my baby, that she or he didn’t matter.”

  “I’m sorry, Kate. Sorry you had to deal with all that alone. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore. I’ll carry it with you.” I pull her to me once more. I feel her body stiffen a second before she relaxes into my embrace. I won’t let her down. I’ll cherish this knowledge. She won’t have to go it alone any longer.

  IT FEELS GOOD TO SHARE this with another person—someone I didn’t pay to sit and listen to my troubles. I don’t think I realized how much I needed this until now. Jon holds me and I feel safe, loved, at peace. Something nags in the back of my brain, though. What was my father doing in that club? What kind of case was Jon working? Did Jon know my dad would be there? Is that why he wanted to me to stay in the truck?

  I pull back. I need to watch his reaction. The words tumble from my lips.

  “Why were you at that club tonight?” His eyes sharpen and he returns my stare.

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss.”

  “Jon,” I warn, and allow anger to seep into my voice.

  “Look. I can’t say why I was there tonight,” he bites out. He has the decency to look apologetic. What’s so important he can’t tell me the truth after I just gutted myself for him? I steady my voice, will myself to be patient.

  “Can you tell me anything about my father?” Jon runs his hands over his scalp, releasing a breath.

  “Yes. Look Kate, hear me out before you make any judgments.” This doesn’t sound promising. But I need to give him an opportunity to explain. I nod before I reply.

  “Okay.”

  He watches my face closely and the silence stretches between us. He finally speaks, voice calm and even.

  “Your mom hired me two weeks ago to look into your father.”

  “What? And you never thought to tell me?” I can’t help the anxiety and doubt that creep inside. He’s been working with my mom. I feel sick.

  “Hear me out. She asked for my help with full discretion. She didn’t want Evie involved, either. I was curious, okay? I wanted to know whether I could figure out why you didn’t speak to them anymore. It was only a job, okay?” I shake my head.

  “No. Not okay.” He scoots back an inch.

  “After what you told me tonight and what I saw at the club, I’m returning your mom’s money. I’m letting her know tomorrow that I’m unable to do the job. That it crossed into what I was hired to do with Scottsdale PD.” His calculating gaze finds my own.

  “And what’s that, exactly?”

  “Kate, the stuff your dad’s involved in, it’s bad. Really bad. I was hired to do some surveillance for a suspected drug ring. I’m not even allowed to say that much, but I think you should know. He’s in some deep shit, Kate.”

  “Yeah. I saw. I was there, remember,” I bite out. I still can’t believe he was working for my mother and never told me. I feel betrayed. Jon’s eyes harden. They pin me with a glare.

  “Yes, and why the hell didn’t you stay in the truck like I asked?”

  “You were taking too long. I thought I’d come find you.” Flipping my ponytail to the side, I play with the strands.

  “I asked you to stay, though. Why do you always have to be so damn difficult? Seeing you with your dad, I lost my mind. I didn’t even think about how my actions would look. I put the undercover cop in danger. I put you in danger.” He clenches his fists and the vein at his neck throbs. He’s right, I should ’ve stayed like he asked. I didn’t know the danger I was walking into. I reach out to where his hand is still in a tight fist and lay mine over it.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  His eyes snap to my own, brows rise. “I’m right?”

  A smirk pulls at my face. “Yeah, but don’t get used to it.” He laughs. “I should have listened to you. But you didn’t have to go and lose control just because my dad was spouting hurtful words.” His brows knit and he studies his hands.

  “I don’t know. Seeing you there and hearing the words, I just snapped.” He shakes his head. An unease settles. That’s not like Jon. He doesn’t just anything. He’s in control, calculating. Always. If he hits someone it’s because he planned to or it’s in self-defense.

  “Jon, I like that you want to protect me, but you can’t go hitting people or inanimate objects every time you’re angry. I get that you’re a trained killing machine, but recently something has changed. You’re not the type to fly off the handle.”

  “Yeah, I feel out of control. I don’t like it.” I think back over the weeks and I’m certain this has to do with Will’s death. I don’t know if Jon’s going to like what I have to say, but I’m saying it anyway.

  “Maybe you should talk to someone. Like a professional? I know I’m not perfect, but until I got help I couldn’t get out of the anger stage of grief. Not that I don’t get angry or sad anymore, but it’s not so out of control. I have my coping mechanisms—”

  “You can’t run to a yoga mat every time shit hits the fan, Kate,” Jon bites out. It’s harsh. His shoulders square and he pulls his hands back behind him.

  “Well you can’t put your fist through everything you don’t like.” Jon stands and walks to the door. I scramble to follow him, but as soon as I’m standing he halts in the doorway.

  “Thanks for your concern, Kate, but I’m handling things.” I have to hold back a scoff. “I’ve got some calls to make. Get some rest.” He’s yet to meet my eyes and it angers me that this is how he’s going to walk away. A part of me longs to be held, to feel safe in his arms for the night, but I’m not going to ask for that. Especially when he’s not offering.

  “Goodnight, Jon.” I walk to the doorway and let the door click shut behind me. His rough murmurs float down the hallway. He’s talking to the detective. I’m exhausted so I stumble to my bed and pull the covers around my body. I don’t even bother to wash my face or change my clothes before I give in to the pull of sleep.

  “Kate, what are you doing?”

  After waking and taking a shower this morning I found a voicemail from my super. The building was cleared by the state and I can move back anytime. A wave of disappointment hit first, followed by fear, then they settled into determination. I’m moving back today. My first reaction is to want to stay with Jon, but that’s not an option. I won’t let myself go there. It’s time to get the hell out.

  “Oh, I’m packing.” I look up from the box into which I’m carefully placing my precious collection of Louboutins, Choos, and Valentinos. I paste on my perfect smile, the one that says everything is okay even when it’s not. He raises one eyebrow.

  “I see that.”

  “Okay, then.” I shrug, flip my hair, and go back to the task at hand. I stand and add the box to the others at the foot of Evie’s bed. After grabbing an empty duffle I move to the dresser and throw in my unmentionables.

  I know he’s watching me from the doorway, but I refuse to halt my progress. He didn’t want to talk last night. He never came back to my room. I made him angry and he left, was cold, and that hurt after everything I shared.

  “Kate,” his voice warns, and I release a breath before I meet his eyes.

  “Look, I appreciate what you did last night. You’re a good friend, Jon.” And I do appreciate him. Only, the feelings he stirs inside unsettle my carefully constructed life. The one in which I know how to be happy.

  “W
hat if I don’t want to be your friend?” My gaze drops back to the drawer full of bras and panties.

  “Oh. I guess that’s fair.” I attempt, unsuccessfully, to keep the hurt from my voice. Well, shit. I thought he considered me a friend. And after the past couple of weeks, well, his words hurt. His voice breaks my thoughts.

  “Kate, I don’t want to be your friend because I want to be more.” My gaze lifts to his eyes. They’re filled with hope, almost pleading with my own. No.

  “Jon, don’t. We’d be horrible together. I’m broken, you even said so last night. We’d argue constantly. You’d punch things. Or people. We can’t be together. You should be with someone nice, sweet. Someone like Carly.” There’s no way he wants me. He may think he does, but give us time and it’d be a disaster.

  “Carly? Why are you even bringing her up?”

  “Because you asked her to the gala.” I toss the duffle onto the bed and glance around the room to assess what still needs to be packed.

  “Because you were already taking Trent!” Jon shakes his head and blows out a breath. “Kate, I don’t want Carly.” He crosses the threshold and I raise my hands. He stops.

  “Someone who’s not me, then.” I speak plain and firmly.

  “So, I don’t get a say in the matter? You’ve already decided for us?” The words tumble from his lips in a shout.

  “I don’t want to fight. I just want to pack my things and get out of here. My super called, said the units are cleared for move in. And my car’s fully repaired. They’re dropping it by before work. So, you don’t have to put up with me anymore. I’ll be gone within the hour.” I keep my voice even. I don’t want to engage, because gazing into those brooding brown eyes, I know he can sway my decision. But I’ve made the right one.

 

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