Page 54 of Love Me Gently

Of course. Of course that was the next question, but how could I explain it to Trina in a way that wouldn’t make her want to jump out of my truck going fifty miles per hour?

Screw it.

She had to knowsomeonecared about her. That she wasn’tnothing.

I pulled off into the parking lot of the new strip. She tensed in the seat next to me, but I parked near the back where there was less traffic.

Truck in park, I turned to face her, willed her to lift her head and meet my gaze.

Slowly, like she could feel the weight of my words bubbling in my throat, she looked at me.

“In the end, Marie realized she wasn’t you and never would be.”

She blinked. Did it again and then her lips parted in surprise. As they did, color flushed her cheeks enough that she finally looked alive and not knocking on death’s door, and her blue eyes brightened like the sun.

“That’s stupid,” she finally said and looked away. “I was never anything special.”

“Trina—”

“Katrina,” she quietly snapped, but her point was made. She’d had enough of a walk down memory lane. “And I’d like to go back now.”

My nostrils flared, and a rebuttal burned the tip of my tongue. How could I help her see the truth when she was so focused on believing made-up lies?

I jumpedup the final stairs to the home I used to live in where Marie was waiting for me behind the storm door. Dressed in wide-leg jeans and a mint green crewneck sweater Marie looked as relaxed and calm as she always did.

I was still in my uniform, coming over as soon as I got off work which had been delayed due to a tourist who decided drunk driving down the mountain was a great idea. He was drying out in our holding cell, pissed as a smacked hornet’s nest, but he should be grateful we stopped him before he tumbled his car down the side of the mountain.

As I got closer to the door, she pushed it open. “Hey. Thanks for being willing to stop by tonight.”

“Glad to do it.” I glanced up the stairway. “Girls asleep?”

“Yeah. Thought that’d be less chaotic.”

It was a good idea, but it also still sucked to be so close to them and not be able to see them.

When Marie decided she wanted a divorce, I moved out almost immediately and let her have the home in our divorce because I wanted her to stay in it with our girls. It wasn’t like the small and cozy split-level I lived in, but a larger two-story home in one of the newly built neighborhoods out by the new high school I’d mentioned to Trina three days ago.

We’d bought a small, fixer-upper three-bedroom ranch when we were first married and then moved into this home when she was pregnant with Ella.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier. Work’s been busy.”

“So has your personal life.” It wasn’t a deep dig, but it cut nonetheless.

“Marie…”

“Sorry.” She had turned her back and was headed toward the kitchen. I hadn’t been in the house much after I moved out. I usually met the girls at the front door. Occasionally, I’d carry a sleeping June upstairs and to her room. Which meant I hadn’t seen the differences she’d made to the downstairs, certainly not to all the picture frames she had covering the walls.

The pictures were only of the girls. Some of her with them. Mostly the girls. Their entire lives, from the newborn stage to now, were framed all over the house that had also been repainted from a light gray to a cream color.

Like she had tried to sweep every single living, breathing memory of me out of the space. Not that I could blame her for it.

“I didn’t mean that,” she said when we reached the kitchen. She went straight to the fridge and pulled out a beer, sliding it across the island to me, and then grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge.

“You keep my beer in the fridge?” I asked.

“Yes,” she deadpanned. “On the off chance you show up to hang out with me, I make sure your favorite refreshment is available.” She rolled her eyes. “I bought it today. Figured you’d want one after work.”

That was thoughtful of her. It also shouldn’t have been a surprise because that was simply the kind of woman Marie had always been.

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