Page 79 of Keeping Kaitlyn

“What does that mean?” Now he’s looking at me like he thinkshemight be the dumb one.

“It means I know the woman in the drawings are of his ex-wife because she’s me.” When his brow crumples in confusion, I cut straight to the point. “I’m the woman in Went’s drawings. He’s my ex-husband.”

Brow still crumpled, Ryan looks away from me, jaw set while he tries to process what I just told him. “Went is your ex-husband.” It’s not a question. He’s repeating it back to me like he wants to make sure he heard me correctly.

“Yes.” Watching him carefully, I nod my head. “We weren’t married for very long. I—” Before I can tell him what happened, he cuts me off.

“When?’ Looking back at me, Ryan shakes his head, still frowning. “When were you divorced?”

“2013,” I tell him. “I filed for divorce five weeks after we got married.”

“Why?” Brow crumpling again, he watches me, eyes narrowed on my face. “What happened? Did he?—”

“No.” I shake my head emphatically, unwilling to let Went take the blame for something that was ultimately my fault. “Went was perfect. He did everything right. Nothing that happened was his fault.”

The look on his face calls me a liar. “Then why did you leave him?”

Because I’d already taken too much from him.

Because I’d been selfish long enough.

Because he didn’t love me back.

“Because it was the right thing to do.” Shaking my head again on a sigh, I lean forward in my seat and look him in the eye so I can be sure he understands me. “Went isn’t the asshole here, Ryan. I am.Ifucked up. All Went ever tried to do was help me.”

Watching my face for a few moments, Ryan leans back in his seat on a sigh of his own before giving me one of his vague, flat smiles. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean but if it’s true then Ritchie Rich is the one who’s gonna need the help now.”

FORTY-THREE

WENTWORTH

After I kickedmy mother out, I spent the rest of the day doing everything I could to distract myself from the fact that I’m supposed to be picking Kait up for dinner in a few hours, even though the last time we talked, she made it perfectly clear that going out with me is the last thing she wants to do.

We were never going to work. I just figured it out before you did.

Fuck.

Standing up from the dining room table where I’m going over quarterly reports for the annual shareholder’s meeting for Hawthorne International, I swipe a rough hand over my face. Most of my weekly meetings can be held over Zoom. Even the monthly board meetings are Zoomable but the stockholder’s meetings once a year are non-negotiable. I have to be there in person because if I’m not, a lot of wealthy people start getting nervous and when enough wealthy people get nervous, it can shift an entire economy. Of all my jobs, CEO of Hawthorne International is my least favorite.

Deciding I’ve tortured myself enough for one day, I dig my phone out of my pocket and check the time. It’s just after six. Our dinner reservations are for eight. Resisting the urge to text Kait for some made up reason, I jam my phone back into my pocket, just as the elevator lets out its second ding for the day. Sure it’s my mother, here to harass me again, I turn away from the dining room table, mouth open to tell her she’s the last person on the face of this godforsaken planet that I would take marital advice from, and watch the doors slide open to see that it’s not my mother here to harass me again.

It's Tess.

And she’s not here to harass me.

I’m pretty sure, if the crescent wrench in her hand is any indication, that she’s here to murder me.

Stepping off the elevator and into the foyer, she sees me immediately. “Married.” She growls it at me like an animal. Stalking toward me, she shakes her head on a nasty sound that I think is meant to be a laugh. “You’re fuckingmarried?”

Shit.

Of course Ryan told Tess what I told him. I can’t even be mad at him for it because what I told him makes me sound like a cheating piece of shit. I’d have done the same thing if I’d been in his shoes.

“No.” I hold up a hand, trying to stop her or at least slow her down. I’d have more luck stopping a runaway train. “I’m not married.”

Stopping a few feet in front of me, Tess lets out a disgusted snort. “So youdidn’ttell Ryan that you’re married and that the woman in the drawings in your shop are of your wife?”

“I did. I did say that but I’m not.” Shaking my head, I drop my hand on a sigh. “I was married—years before I even met you—but I’m not anymore. Haven’t been for years.” Lifting my handagain, I gesture toward the living room. “Can we sit? I’ll explain everything. If you don’t like?—”

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