“Once the shock wore off, I needed to do the right thing. Single moms aren’t a big deal these days, but let’s just say I can be old-fashioned about some things.”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You just wanted to do what was right for Vi.”
I look at our hands and sigh, feeling a bit of old guilt. “I’m not sure if that’s what I was trying to do. I think back on it sometimes and ask myself if I felt that the pregnancy was messing up my plan to break up with Geneva. It wasn’t until I heard Vi’s heartbeat that she felt like a person to me, a new life I was responsible for, you know? I wonder if Vi knows that, deep inside. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like me that much.” And as I speak, I realize the sense of guilt has been weighing on my mind for a long time, maybe even before my divorce. And I feel sad, wondering if I’m being dumb and overcompensating somehow, by trying to give her a normal life and all that by insisting on living in a typical middle-class apartment, while sending her off to one of the most exclusive and expensive private schools. A lot of what I’ve done hasn’t been that consistent, and Vi’s smart enough to get that, even if she can’t quite put it into words.
“I doubt Vi feels that way,” Kim says. “She loves you. She just doesn’t know how to express it yet.”
“I hope so.” I smile, wanting Kim to be right and wishing I knew exactly how to show Vi how m
uch I love her in a way she can process. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“You know. Just being understanding and nice.”
“Don’t mention it. I don’t want to see you and Vi hurt because of what Geneva did.”
As she spoons her eggs, her head tilts a little, and I see the scar Geneva gave her. Geneva said it was an accident, but nobody believes she didn’t mean to make Kim trip and fall.
I reach out and gently run my thumb over the jagged line, chin almost to the ear, and she goes still. Then lean over and I kiss it, all the while thinking I don’t want to see Kim hurt by anything.
And I realize the small voice in my head is right. What I feel for Kim goes beyond just a new toothbrush on my counter. I want to see how far we can go together this time.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kim
I help Wyatt clean up after breakfast, but I really have to get going. I need a fresh set of clothes, not to mention a shower and makeup. But somehow I don’t want to leave him, not even for a second. The sex was fantastic, but the morning after was even better, more intimate and open. I love seeing this new side of him, the vulnerability that makes me want to open up to him in return.
I finish my second cup of coffee and start to put the empty mug in the dishwasher. Then I hear it. A loud, weird noise—something between a whine and a bark.
“What’s that?” I ask with a shudder. The sound is horrific. I might suspect Champ, but Yuna is with him. If something was wrong, she would call.
“I don’t know,” Wyatt answers, looking a little alarmed.
It happens again, and he turns toward the Wall of Unhung Nails. “I think it’s coming from…there?”
Holy cow, Wyatt’s right! Panicked, I grab my purse and dash barefoot to my apartment. I should’ve known better than to just assume Yuna would do a good job taking care of my dog! She probably can’t comb her own hair without an assistant. Anyone born that rich can be helpless about the most basic things.
Wyatt follows and stands protectively as I fumble with my keys. Finally the door unlocks, and I step inside.
“Hello? Yuna?” Champ rushes me and Wyatt, tail wagging. He isn’t giving us his usual doggy smile, but I don’t see any sign of abuse or neglect. On the other hand, it’s only been a day.
Wyatt reaches for the light switch and turns on the recessed lights in the living and dining rooms.
“Oh, thank God you’re back,” comes from a vibrating leather chair that doesn’t belong in my apartment. It’s Yuna, but she’s facing away from us.
Champ makes the same creepy whine-bark sound again.
“Argh,” she says. “Never mind. I thought he’d stop if you came home.”
“Obviously not,” I say, mildly annoyed. “What did you do? And where did you get that chair?”
“I didn’t do anything except walk him earlier and feed him. I think he’s just upset the cat disappeared.”
Yuna must be talking about Princess. I’m not too worried about her, since even though she’s a house cat, she seems to be able to take care of herself.
Yuna continues, “She left this morning—I’m not sure how she got out, since all the windows were closed. And I bought this, obviously. Do you like it?”