Page 32 of At the Heart of It
“I disagree.”
Jonah frowned. “What?”
“I think the next book was. The one you wrote together. On The Other Hand was more than just a memoir or a trendy self-help guide. It made the issues relatable. It wasn’t just a woman on a pedestal giving her advice on communication strategies. It was two people—two very different people—giving their perspectives on communication and relationships and all the messy stuff that comes along with human connection. Jonah, that book changed lives. You were a part of that.”
Jonah stared at her for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was softer. “That wasn’t me. That was Viv.”
“It wasn’t just Viv.” She shook her head, needing him to believe this. “Your contributions may have been smaller, lighthearted pieces of the equation, but they were equally vital. They’re what got people buzzing about the book. They’re what made men pay attention and actually read instead of rolling their eyes when their wives brought home a silly relationship guide.”
Kate’s voice had gotten louder, and she watched Marilyn, the judgey-eyebrow cat, shift positions. The cat’s brows lifted a fraction of an inch, and Kate imagined her remarking, “You’re laying it on pretty thick, lady.”
She was, but she didn’t care. She needed Jonah to hear this. Needed him to understand. He still hadn’t said anything, and she wondered what he was thinking. Were her words having an impact at all?
“Thank you,” he said softly.
“For what?”
“For what you just said. About the book mattering. About my parts of it. I know I’ve been acting like sort of an asshole about the whole book thing, but it means a lot to hear you say that. That it mattered.”
Kate felt a tiny prick of tears starting behind her eyelids, but she fought them back. “It did matter. It still does.”
She looked down at the table, struggling to get her bearings. She couldn’t afford to get too emotional over this. It was business, and she needed to stay professional. She thought about picking up her pizza and taking another bite, but she wasn’t sure she could get it past the lump in her throat.
The rumble of Jonah’s voice made her look up again.
“Who was he?”
Kate blinked, her expression so startled Jonah knew he’d hit a nerve.
“Who—what do you mean?” she asked.
“The guy who broke your heart. Who was he?”
He watched her take a few steadying breaths, watched her glance up and to the left. A neurolinguistic indicator, sometimes an indication that the subject was accessing a part of the brain that forms fabrications.
Or maybe she was looking at judgey-eyebrow cat again.
“His name was Anton.” Kate’s words were soft, and Jonah could tell she was speaking the truth. “I mentioned him over dinner in Ashland.”
“Did he hit you?”
Kate shook her head, but she blinked when she did it. Something was off here. “No,” she said.
“But?”
He watched her swallow, and he kept his gaze on hers, channeling all his energy into using the subtle elicitation skills he’d honed in his counterintelligence training for the Marines.
“‘Abuse takes more forms than fists,’” Kate said. “I’m quoting Viv again, I know. But I’m trying to tell you how much those books meant to me. How much I learned about what a healthy relationship looks like. But Not Broken may have taught me to recognize signs of an unhealthy relationship, but it wasn’t until On the Other Hand that I understood what a healthy one looked like. That I shouldn’t settle for anything else.”
Something tightened in Jonah’s chest. A pang of guilt, or maybe regret. He remembered the first meeting he and Viv had with the editor contracted to work with them for On the Other Hand.
“You two have such an amazing relationship,” the editor had gushed, folding her hands on a polished ebony desk as she beamed at Jonah and Viv sitting across from her. “You have an important gift you can give people here. The gift of seeing what a healthy relationship should look like.”
Viv had smiled and twined her fingers through Jonah’s, and Jonah had squeezed back as the lump formed thick in his throat. By then they were already sleeping in separate bedrooms, already talking quietly about “taking some time apart.”
Deep down, he’d known then that they were past the point of no return. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but it had sat there between them like an angry cat. Even if Viv had been the one to pull the plug, he’d known where things were headed.
“We’d love nothing more than to set a positive example,” Viv had told the editor while pressing the tip of her toe against his instep. “To help other people.”
