Page 102 of The Deception You Weave
When he looks back at me, I swear to God I stop breathing because he's got the most breathtaking smile on his face.
"I was joking. But it's good to know how you feel about sharing."
"She's an old woman, Kane. Old enough to be your grandmother."
He shrugs as two plates with the biggest burgers I have ever seen piled on the top.
"I am never going to eat that all," I mutter, taking in the sheer amount of food.
Hallie smiles softly at me as I stare at the food in horror.
"Just do your best, sweetie. This one will finish up what you can't manage."
"Thank you."
"Scarlett," she says as if she can't really believe I'm here. "You are more than welcome." The way she studies me makes me wonder what exactly she knows about me. If what Kane is saying is true and that she knows everything, then why doesn't she hate me like he does? There's no way he's painted me in a good light.
"Eat," he says after a few seconds once Hallie has left us to it and I'm still sitting there lost in my own thoughts.
"Why doesn't she hate me?"
Kane's got the giant burger in front of his face when I look up at him but I don't miss the way his eyes wrinkle with his smile.
"Why would she?"
"Because you do."
"Hallie is more clever than me," is all he says before stuffing the food in his mouth and cutting off any more conversation.
* * *
"I'm so full," I complain from Kane's passenger seat with my hands on my bloated belly as he finally drives us back toward Maddison. "I've not been this fat in a long time."
"You're not fat, Princess."
"Don't I know it. I lost so much weight after everything."
The mood in the car darkens at my mention of the past and what we lost.
"You should have looked after yourself better."
"Easier said than done when you can't see the point in life."
"Jesus." He rubs at his jaw before running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I keep fucking this up. I don't even know what to say to make it any better."
My chin drops at the vulnerability in his tone. He's trying, I know he is. But I'm not sure he'll ever truly understand how it felt to lose our baby the way I did.
"You're not fucking anything up. There is no right thing to say, no way to magically fix what's broken."
"You're not broken, Let," he says, briefly glancing over at me before taking a turn.
"I wasn't actually talking about me but I'm glad you don't think I am." Shame I don't feel the same way. I've lived for the past year with the feeling that I could shatter into a million pieces at any second. Granted, it's getting better but it's still there, under the surface.
Silence falls around us once more as he takes the final turn into the parking lot for my dorm.
"What about my car?" I ask, not forgetting that it's sitting outside Dad's trailer.
"I'll get a couple of the guys to deliver it back to you."
