by Ellie Danes
I loved moments when words weren’t needed. Especially right now, because I had no fucking clue what to say. It was real. The whole situation was just real. It was one of the most real things I had ever experienced.
“Do you think,” I mumbled, breaking the silence, “that maybe talking about it all will help?”
Kate lifted her head off my chest and looked into my eyes. Her gaze was deep. What had I done to deserve such a gorgeous woman lying against me, snuggling close?
“I just don’t know how to explain it so that anyone could understand what it is that I’m feeling,” she finally said.
“You don’t have to talk about any of this,” I said, “but I won’t really get it unless you explain it to me.”
She nodded as if considering my words. She sniffled and snuggled closer.
I pulled out my blue silk pocket square and handed it to her. “It’s not really a handkerchief, but it’ll do,” I said with a smile, hoping that she wouldn’t take offense to the fact that I’d noticed her getting snotty.
She looked up at me. “I can’t wipe my eyes with that.”
She was smiling, and her eyes glistened with more than just tears. Maybe, despite all the uncertainty in her family life right now, I could give her something solid and real—I could give her my companionship and friendship and even some affection.
“Yes, you can,” I said, smirking slightly. I put the cloth over my fingertips and wiped at her eyes as gently as I could, trying my best to dab them dry.
“Good thing I’m wearing water-proof make-up, huh?” she laughed, her head instinctively leaning into my touch.
I continued to dab her cheeks and eyes dry. I really didn’t give a rat’s ass about that pocket square. Not when it meant making her feel a little more comfortable.
She even eventually took it from me, her gratitude spread across her face and bright within those gorgeous green eyes. She seemed comforted, even if it was for just a moment.
“Thank you, Ian,” she said softly. “It was so sweet of you to come here.”
She pulled me into another hug, and I felt myself wrapped up once more.
Sweet. I couldn’t help musing at the description.
That was a word I’d never heard someone use to describe me. Usually, it was something along the lines of asshole, overbearing, difficult. Insensitive jerk had been a favorite, too.
I felt her warm breath run over my ear as we hugged. It caused a shiver to roll down my spine.
“I just hate that I keep crying,” she said. “I feel like an idiotic little girl.”
“No,” I said firmly, pulling away. “You’re not.” I tilted her chin up so she could look me in the eyes. “You’ve had a really bad day.”
"I know, but it’s still something I hate doing,” she said. “I hate when people look at me, and that’s what I feel like everyone’s doing right now.”
“It’s just me,” I said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thanks, Ian," Kate whispered as she hugged my side tighter.
She leaned her head against my shoulder, and I felt her lips and cheeks move against me. I knew she was smiling, at least faintly.
While comforting her, I had become aware of just how much I really did care for her. As if it wasn’t already blatantly obvious by the fact that I had even left work in the first place.
I glanced back down at her. I noticed, for the first time, that there was a small circle of freckles just on the nape of her neck, and even a small cluster of two or three just over her luscious lips.
Those lips looked even more inviting than they ever had before.
Her red hair shimmered in the fluorescent light of the hospital waiting room. Fluorescents made everyone look like shit, and being in a hospital usually did the same. But Kate looked good. Her hair shone and framed her face in a halo of beauty.
She kept glancing at the doors, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was still waiting on her dad.
I turned and put my arm around her. She immediately melted into my embrace. I couldn’t help but breathe in her scent again — it was flowery and soft, and so fucking intoxicating.
I had never had the urge to hug a woman, not in a comforting sort of way. Hugging was never really my game. Why would it be? What good did a hug do?
Well, before, I thought nothing good could come from a hug. It wasn’t that I was against them, just that they didn’t make sense. I’d been wrong, though. Hugging Kate made all kinds of sense.
I ran my hand through her long, red, silky hair just before pulling back.
I felt my heartbeat quicken, and sweat formed above my brow. I couldn’t help but nervously gaze into her deep and intense green eyes just before leaning in again. Only this time, I wasn’t going for a hug.
I didn’t care — and she didn’t seem to either — that we were in the middle of the waiting room. Before I knew it, our lips came together.
It was bliss. Complete fucking bliss. I hated how much I was enjoying being with her, while her sister lay in a hospital bed not too far away, hurt.
But Kate’s body warmed me, and I felt her arms wrap around me, holding me close. The kiss was desperate, and it was like we were the only two in the room in that moment. It was like everyone else had disappeared.
It was almost exactly what it had been for our first kiss. We were in the middle of so many people, but it felt like we were the only two in existence.
The feeling that I had felt building all day finally started to bubble out. The kiss, which had been soft and tender, turned passionate, desperate, and lustful. We were both moaning.
Until, at about the same time, we realized where we were.
No matter how alone we felt we were, we weren’t alone, and we were being rude. Reluctantly, we pulled apart from each other. The other people in the waiting room were studiously ignoring us, except a little old lady who gave me a wide grin and a thumbs up. Kate had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
As I situated myself in my seat and looked at the time on my phone, I realized that although it was getting a bit late, I wasn’t tired in the least. My mind was so busy. I couldn’t help but think about how much my life had changed in one day, that day I first met Kate.
It had been a Monday just like any other fucking Monday. I had gone to Starbucks just like any other day…but unlike any other day in the history of all my days — I’d forgotten my wallet, and a beautiful woman rescued me and bought my very much-needed caffeine for the morning. And that woman had started to make me feel something more than the day-to-day existence I’d been enduring.
She filled me with passion, excitement, and energy.
And now, she had me here, and I was worried about a girl I didn’t even know. Because I cared about Kate so much that I hated the thought of anyone close to her being hurt. I hated the thought of her being sad.
I had always loathed hospitals, especially after my dad died. But here I was, voluntarily. Unlike with every other woman I had ever dated, I wasn’t doing things like this hospital visit just to gain brownie points. I genuinely just wanted to be here with Kate. If I had any sort of doubt before about how much I had changed, this definitely sealed it. I was different.
She must have sensed that something was wrong because she turned to me, her face full of worry. She placed her warm hand on my forearm and asked gently, “Are you all right?”
I sat up and laughed a faint, tired laugh. “I should be asking you that.”
There really wasn't anything wrong with me — I wasn’t sad. I was confused. I was a little scared. This thing between us, whatever it was, felt powerful.
She tilted her head and gave me a slight smile. “I’m okay.”
I wrapped my arms around her again and gave her a soft, gentle kiss on the top of her head. She smiled in response and snuggled into my side.
“Really,” she said with a sigh. “Thank you for coming.”
And together we cuddled in the uncomfortably stiff chairs, holding each oth
er.
Chapter 19
Ian
I sensed another bout of anxiousness in Kate. There was a tightening in her body, a sudden rigidity to the set of her shoulders.
“What is it?” I asked, and took her hand in mine. I squeezed it gently, but firmly enough to let her know I was there. To let her know that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Nothing new. Just thinking about Claire.” She looked up and gave me a small but encouraging smile. She squeezed my hand in return — only tighter. At that moment, it felt like we were the only two left in the waiting room.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
“What?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Is this Aladdin, and you’re about to take me on a magic carpet ride?” She was chuckling, which was a good thing. “But yes. I don’t know why, but I really trust you.”
And as soon as she said it, I immediately felt my heart pound hard in my chest. Pride. Joy. Honor. I felt them all because I had this woman’s trust.
“Can you tell me about everything?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” She looked at me, and her brows furrowed in confusion.
And then I realized how shitty I was for even asking in the first place. She was vulnerable, and here I was digging—poking and prodding, even—for information. I wanted to take it all back, to shove the questions back in my mouth, and then stick my foot in it to seal it closed. But it was too late.
“I just mean..." I stammered a bit. I still couldn't believe I could even begin to stammer around a woman. I'd never had that problem before. "Well…" I sounded like a blithering idiot trying to figure out how to save it so that I wouldn't sound so incredibly insensitive. "Just, you know, tell me a little more about Claire, about your family — about everything. It seems like there’s a lot going on with you, and your world. And I think it might help if you have someone to finally listen to you...but if not, don’t worry about it right now."
She glanced down to her hands, which were nervously fiddling.
"And yeah, maybe selfishly I even want to learn a little more about you —and your family.” I laughed, almost nervously, but I hoped it would ease the tension of my question.
“Oh god,” she said, still a little sadly, but with a hint of her own smile. “That’s a little hard to explain.”
Her voice became shaky again, and I couldn’t help but scold myself for how dumb I'd even been to bring it up in the first place.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with,” I reassured her. “But like I said earlier, I won’t ever understand unless you explain it. We could always talk later, though, when the feelings maybe aren’t so raw.”
“I want to talk,” she said. “I really do. I just don’t know how.”
“Just let it out,” I whispered. I put my hand on her knee and squeezed it firmly. “If you really want to talk, I think it could help you feel better. You’ve been holding all of this back all day, and probably for a whole lot longer than that.”
“You’re the first person who has cared enough to ask,” she said.
I felt my throat clench in pain at the notion. But I knew she wasn’t done. She probably still had a lot more on her mind. I could tell she was about to give me the whole story, just by looking at the change in her expression.
She sat up and leaned away slightly, then cleared her throat. She clutched my pocket square in front of her. “I mean, I told you before that she had some mental health issues — and some learning disabilities. It’s been an ongoing battle for a long time.”
I nodded. “It sounds really hard, Kate.”
“Yeah. Constant battling with the illness itself, with schools, with therapists, with my parents, with my brother…”
I felt terrible how un-encouraging her family seemed. She hadn’t really talked much about them; she’d mostly just talked about Claire. It said a lot that Kate was the only one here for Claire right now.
“Both parents?” I asked, remembering that she hadn’t mentioned her mom very much.
“Mom left a long time ago. Claire was really young.” Kate dabbed the corner of her eye with my pocket square before continuing, “Dad always blamed Claire for it — and in truth, my mother did leave because she couldn’t deal with Claire’s special needs.”
“Your mom should feel like an asshole,” I muttered as my head fell back and rested against the wall. “And so should your dad.” I knew it wasn’t my place, but I was angry for her. “Why isn’t he here?”
“Dad?” she said with a laugh. It wasn’t a humorous laugh, though—it was a bitter one. “He thinks paying attention to her after something like this is ‘fawning’ over her and ‘encouraging’ the behavior.”
“But that’s not how mental illness works, is it?” I asked.
“I’m hardly an expert,” she said. “But that’s not how Claire’s symptoms are. So his problem is more than just Claire. It’s his deep-seated beliefs and prejudices, and his business. I mean, I get it. He’s a really busy man…”
No excuse. No fucking excuse. I was a busy man, and I was here.
“It’s just hard for him to break away,” she said.
I wondered if that was really what she believed. I had to wonder if she always glossed his actions over, if she was that much in denial, or if she really just had to say it to make herself feel better.
My money was on the latter.
I could tell that she was confused about her family situation. So was I, for that matter. It didn’t make sense that a mother could leave her children behind, that her sister could even think of taking her own life, or hurting herself. It seemed that Kate had a hard time trying to put herself in Claire’s shoes, and I could definitely relate to that.
But it was in that moment that I understood how Kate had become the wonderful woman that she had become. She was kind, genuine, responsible, and wise beyond her years…and that was because she’d had to be. She’d been forced into some sort of sisterly-motherhood type lifestyle. She had become a mother-figure — the biggest role model in existence — to a little girl. She’d had to learn how to take care of this girl from a young age, all the way through her teenage years.
She had to be that one reliable source of love. She had to be that one constant role model.
“I know it’s been hard on you,” I said. “For you to constantly have to be strong, to be a mother figure to your little sister…to have non-stop responsibility.”
She nodded. “You’re right.”
“But you can’t be strong all the time — no one can,” I whispered. “Sometimes you need someone else.”
She watched me the whole time I spoke. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, but she held a faint grin on her lips. And I felt like she knew that I was right — that she needed to let go. That she needed to trust someone. That she needed to rely on someone.
I was pissed at her parents. Had they not seen what they had done to their oldest daughter? Did they even care?
“You’ve constantly been alone, with no one there, and that’s bullshit,” I said. “But I’ll be here.”
She hugged me tight, and when she did, I couldn’t help but wonder how upset I would have been if I was in her shoes. Claire was the only person who seemed to be there for Kate — and vice versa. And now Claire was laid up in a hospital bed, having just harmed herself due to a mental disorder that no one except Kate seemed to want to deal with.
And Kate was in a hospital waiting room, clinging to a man she’d only known for a week. I didn’t know exactly how I’d feel, but I’d imagine it was confused, angry, and almost like I wasn’t strong enough to handle the tough shit. But I knew that idea was wrong. Because it was clear, at least to me, that Kate could handle pretty much anything.
“The only weakness you have,” I said, feeling a little sentimental, “is the one that everyone would be so lucky to have.”
She leaned back to look at me again. “What’s that?”
“Love. And fear o
f losing that love.” The truth of it ripped through me, because as much as I could try and put myself in Kate’s shoes, I couldn’t really understand what she was feeling. I didn’t really have anyone in my life that I truly loved.
I’d truly loved my dad. And I had lost him — and I knew how terrible it was. I still wasn’t over it. I’d never be able to look at Christmas the same way again. He’d died that same week. The difference with my situation was that my dad was older. A person expects their parents to die. People don’t usually want that, of course, but it’s not such a huge surprise.
Nobody expects their baby sister to go before them — let alone by her own hand.
So as much as I’d try, I’d never understand. Especially now that I didn’t have anyone left to love.
Kate nodded, agreeing with what I said. She gave me a large, enveloping hug. As I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, I realized something. Her body was relaxed, and her breathing was soft. Had it worked? Had I actually given her real comfort?
“Thank you for saying that,” she whispered in my ear.
I chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “You don’t need to ever thank me.”
She smiled and shifted herself in the chair so that her head leaned against my arm.
“So what does your dad do for a living?” I asked. “You said he’s busy all the time.”
“He's the CEO of a company.”
I laughed. Talk about vague. But just as I was about to ask what sort of company, the doctor came around the corner and asked to speak to Kate. I wondered what sort of business would pull a man so completely away from his family. I wanted to understand how he wasn’t there for his daughter…for either of his daughters.
Chapter 20
Ian
My thumb scrolled over the screen of my phone. I took a deliberate deep breath and blinked. After thirty minutes of going through my inbox, I had been reading too many messages. It seemed like hours had gone by and all of a sudden I felt like I was at work all over again
Kate had been with Claire for the past hour or so. Meanwhile, work didn’t quit. Text messages and emails had seemed to flood in, and I figured since I had some downtime I’d go over them.
