Page 83 of Catching Kyle
I wince, thinking. “No,” I say. I pause for a beat. “But it is something I think I would like. I want to talk to him about it. I feel like details like these are important to share as a couple. Keeping them secret goes against what I think is healthy in a relationship.”
“There you go,” she says. “You can talk to Kyle about it. But hear what he has to say. You may come to a mutual understanding and a strategy that works for both of you. But just be kind when you talk to him. From what it sounds like, he’s not abandoning you. Trust that, trust your feelings, and trust that he’s doing the best he can, too.”
I sigh. It all feels clear now. “Thanks, Susan,” I say. “I think I know what to do.”
“Call back if you need to talk more,” I say.
“Thanks,” I say. “For this and for everything. I feel like I should pay you for this.”
I can hear her smiling through the phone. “Someone did it for me, so I’ll do it for you,” she says.
I laugh. “Alright,” I say. “Talk soon.”
After I hang up, I still feel anxious to talk to Kyle. But there’s undertones of peace there.
I didn’t have great parents, and I haven’t had very many good experiences with love, either. But that doesn’t mean I need to keep expecting the same abandonment over and over again. I can break the curse of thinking those I love will leave me. And tonight, I can start by talking to Kyle, sharing my feelings, and listening to what he has to say.
Chapter 30
Kyle Weaver
WhenMichaelshowsupat my front door, I’m beyond relieved. It’s been one of the longest weeks of my life, and I just want to hold my man in my arms. Between reviewing the article that Robyn wrote, showing my face in public with Amani, and waiting for updates from Timmy about the Tigers re-signing me or not, I can barely keep my eyes open. But seeing Michael lifts me up like helium in a balloon.
“Hey, you,” I say. I lean forward and kiss him on the lips.
“Hey,” he says, stepping inside. I may just be seeing things because I’m dead tired, but I swear that he’s holding himself small and tight like he does when he’s withholding something on his mind.
I shut the door. “You okay?”Michael is wearing those short shorts and a tank top that reveals how toned his arms are. I can’t wait until his legs are spread and his arms are wrapped around my back.
“Uh, yeah,” he says. “Just hungry.”
I’m not convinced. But I take the bait.
“Well I got dinner for us right here,” I say, leading us into my family room where I have some romantic candles going along with the fireplace. “I got your favorite.”
His pad thai sits steaming on my coffee table, and there’s a shadow of a smile on his face.
“Why don’t you eat and tell me about your week?” I ask.
He nods. “Sure.”
I sit down in my usual place, and he sits right next to me. He’s still acting like an echo of himself, like he’s scared of me or something. I hate it when he acts like this, like he’s afraid I’ll inevitably hurt him. I don’t want to do that. I just want him to be comfortable with me.
“So you’re officially unemployed,” I say. “How does it feel?”
He digs through his pad thai with chopsticks, stirring up the noodles. He doesn’t look at me, but a grin forms on his face.
“About that,” he says. “Got some news.”
“Right,” I say, tapping my forehead. “You said so in your text.”
He looks at me for the first time. “I may not be unemployed after all.”
My face brightens. “You found an agent?”
He laughs. “No,” he says, as if that was impossible. I still don’t understand the publishing process well, but after reading so much of his writing, I wouldn’t be surprised if he found one any day now.
“Ruckers may hire me,” he says.
