Page 93 of Seein’ Red

Not to mention, his lie wasn’t about something he knew would wound her.

“You really believe he doesn’t love you, don’t you?” Kenzie chimes in.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Does if you love him.”

More than I could ever admit out loud…

“I don’t.”

The lie is barely out of my mouth, and another sob escapes. I need to start controlling them, but I can’t. Every time I think I’m starting to calm down, another wave hits me, each one more powerful than the last. One more reminder that the perfectness that I woke up to is gone. And never coming back.

“For what it’s worth, I think you do,” Kenzie says. “You just don’t want to admit it. Which, I get. He hurt you before, and you have been trying to avoid being hurt again. But you are hurt, Willa. So is he. Be hurt together.”

I stare back at her, trying to form a comeback. Something witty and sharp. But I’ve got nothing.

Kenzie levels me with a look, knowing that I don’t have a response.

A knock on the door saves me, all four of us turning to see who could possibly be disrupting us. My mind goes wild with ideas, but I don’t let myself get my hopes up. Hope has no place here.

Milo sticks his head in, my body relaxing in relief. I sigh, muscles I hadn’t realized were tense easing as I lean back against the island.

“Sup?”

Sup? Only fucking Milo would enter a moment like this with a question like that.

The four of us stare back at him, wordless, anxiously waiting for him to say something. Anything,

Instead, he moseys on in like he doesn’t have a care in the world, looking down at us huddled on the floor. Like we’re still the group of preschoolers that he and his friends would try to avoid during playtime.

“I think this might be older brother territory,” he offers up, a succinct nod of his head.

“No it’s not,” Sylvie answers.

“Might be.”

“Since when?”

“Since one of you has to leave for her honeymoon, the other has to drive her, and the third has a tutoring session her boyfriend asked me to remind her about.”

“Oh…”

Realization settles over all three of my friends’ faces, their real lives creeping back in. Which is fine. I’m done talking. I want to sit and wallow and deal with this pain in solitude.

Bronwyn pushes to her feet first, holding out her hand for Sylvie, then Kenzie. But Kenzie holds up a finger, telling her one moment.

Turning back to me, she places her hands on my knees and looks me directly in the eye.

“I’m going to give you the same advice that a very wise woman once gave me. Although I’m going to leave out the part about calling you an idiot.”

Sylvie snickers, not bothering to try and hide it. I deserve that.

“You need to deal with your feelings. Today was a lot, and you’re grieving.” I open my mouth to protest, but Kenzie holds up a hand to stop me. “You are. The loss of that pregnancy, real or not, is heavy. Add in the fight with Nash, and I can’t imagine that weight. A weight you should be sharing and processing with Nash.”

“No.”

“Fine. Then continue to be hardheaded about it, and we will pick this back up when I return from St. Thomas. Just take care of you in the meantime so I can call you an idiot when I get back.”