Page 174 of Keeping Kasey
I don’t belong here.
It’s so blatantly, embarrassingly obvious, too.
Aside from the occasional kind smile from Elise and Rachel, no one acknowledges my presence.
It’s preferable to conversing, but not by much.
Sitting here, watching this family talk and laugh without a care in the world, is a form of torture. It’s being forced to take in everything I’ve never had and will never have.
And it makes the bite of loneliness that much more chilling.
“Next year, we’re hosting,” Damon says, and I pay attention to the conversation for the first time all night. He nods to the kids, who share a coloring book at the end of the table, oblivious to the rest of the world. “Depriving those children of a white Christmas is abuse.”
Rachel rolls her eyes. “I’ve never had snow on Christmas, and I turned out just fine.”
“Debatable,” Damon says with a shrug, pointing to Ryder. “You did end up withhim.”
Ryder flips him off.
“Do you know how rare it is that itactuallysnows on Christmas here?” Elise asks. “It’s just cold and gloomy. At least in LA, we can take a walk on the beach.”
“I’m with Damon on this one,” James says, leaning back in his seat. “You guys are coming here next year.”
Elise crosses her arms over her chest. “That just means you’re coming to us for Thanksgiving.”
“So many damn holidays,” Moreno mutters.
“What did you do for Christmas, Kasey?” Elise asks, a kind smile on her face.
The lighthearted mood disappears the second I’m brought into the mix—as if I needed the reminder that I do not belong.
But she asked, so I might as well tell the truth.
“I figured you guys would be too busy celebrating the holiday to hunt me down, so I planned to take a bus from Little Rock to Fort Smith. Before I could get on the bus, I was mugged and left for dead in an alley with a sprained wrist and a concussion. But I’m so glad to hear you all enjoyed walking on the beach.”
The collective hush over the room is heavy, but none of them feels the weight more than I do.
How dare they sit here and pretend all is well with us?
The men’s expressions remain perfectly composed—a look I’m sure they’ve perfected through the years. The girls have the decency to convey something like regret.
But it’s not their reactions I need to see.
I meet Logan’s gaze, and though it bears some of the neutral mask I despise, there’s a break of sober understanding, like maybe he really does grasp the weight of what I’ve been through.
But even that can’t fix anything.
“You know what?”—I push away from the table and stand—“I’ve lost my appetite.”
I walk out of the house and take the steps from the manor as fast as I can without slipping. A half-snow, half-rain mixture freezes me to the bone within seconds, but I don’t slow down. I have no idea what my plan is, but I’m too mad to stop and figure it out.
Hell, at this rate, I’llwalkback to the hotel.
The door opens and closes, but I don’t turn to see the owner of the pattering footsteps following mine.
“I’m not going back inside.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Logan answers.
