Page 87 of Now That It's You
“Definitely not.”
There was no hesitation in her voice, which seemed to surprise Kyle. “Really?”
“Not a chance.” Meg shrugged. “I don’t mean to be a pessimist, but she’s been letting my dad run rickshaws over her for years.”
“Rickshaws?”
She frowned. “Is that not the expression?”
He looked like he was fighting not to smile. “Roughshod. Run roughshod over her.”
“Whatever.” Meg weighed a dismissive hand, and it occurred to her that Kyle’s gentle conversational corrections felt nothing at all like when Matt used to do it. “My point is that she’s not going to stop the cycle. Not now, not ever. It’s just the way things are with her.”
“How many affairs has your father had?”
Meg snorted. “That we know about? At least a dozen. I’m sure it’s more than that.”
“Do you think it’s some sort of weird turn-on for your mom?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve considered that before—I mean, as much as I’ve been willing to think about what turns my mom on.” She made a face. “I don’t think that’s it.”
“So what is it?”
She shrugged. “Low self-esteem? Force of habit? Refusal to back down from her marriage vows?”
“Love?” Kyle supplied, and Meg couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement.
“Maybe. But it’s not any kind of love I’d want to be part of.”
“But you are part of it. Like it or not, you’re their daughter. You’re a product of that.”
The thought of that made her chest hurt. “Probably true in lots of ways.”
Kyle leaned against the door, studying her with an intensity that made Meg start to squirm. “If that hadn’t been the story of your childhood, do you think you might have forgiven Matt and gone through with the wedding?”
Meg hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”
Kyle nodded, and something flickered in his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”
“That doesn’t mean it would have been the right thing to do. But I wouldn’t have known that at the time.”
He looked at her a moment longer, then pushed away from the door, shifting his keys from one hand to the other. From her spot in front of the fireplace, Bindi poked her head up and looked around. Meg knew she should just let him call his dog and walk out the door and go home to his own home, his own bed, his own life.
But something made her reach out and touch his arm. “Kyle?”
“Yes?”
Meg hesitated, biting her lip. “Please stay.”
He looked at her, his gray-green eyes unblinking. He didn’t move toward her, and he didn’t move away. “What are you asking?”
“I just—I don’t want to be alone.”
“I see.” He hesitated. “Maybe Kendall can stay with you.”
She shook her head. “No, that’s not it.” God, he was going to make her spell it out. She took a shaky breath and met his eyes, her hand still on his arm. “I’m asking you to stay the night. We can keep all our clothes on and just sit on the sofa talking all night, or we can make mad, passionate love until we fall asleep exhausted. I just want you to stay.”
Kyle nodded. “Which of those two options would you prefer?”
