Page 42 of Wrecked
I pressed my forehead against the tiles and thought of Dean. The way I'd behaved wasn't right; he didn't deserve any of it. Was I a bad person because kissing Brett hadn't felt like cheating? It felt a hell of a lot like coming in from the cold and having the fire warm you to your very core.
"Ugh!" I shut off the water and snatched a towel from the rack. After wiping the fogginess from the mirror, I confronted my reflection. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't find it in me to belittle the woman I saw staring back at me.
She looked a little worse for wear but a whole lot lost.
It was time for me to take ownership of my life—mistakes and all.
A plan formed in my head as I padded to my room. I dropped the towel and pulled a pair of sleep shorts and a cami from my armoire. Brush in hand; I slipped onto the stool in front of my dressing table. The tiny box hiding behind my jewelry case caught my attention.
I pulled it from behind the impressive pewter box that'd been a gift from Dean. A sad smile tugged at my lips as I ran my fingers over the engraving on the worn wood.
Forever. Refusing to shed one more tear, I swallowed them down and lifted the lid. There weren't many keepsakes in there. A sugar packet from my first date with Brett, a butterfly that he drew for me, the same one sitting on my thigh, and then finally the letter.
With shaky fingers, I unfolded the piece of paper and braced for the shame and hurt that always accompanied the words.
Dear Kenzie.
Having your choices taken away from you brings a lot of things into focus.
Brings all your previous choices into focus.
I've had a lot of time to think about why I gave so much of my life to you. And honestly, no amount of time will ever give me the answer. I can't understand why I loved you. Why I trusted you?
Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? Did you think you could always hide your 'daddy's girl' facade?
Well, lucky for me I see you now. I know who you are. A lying fake, spoiled little rich girl that has no spine and even fewer morals. How convenient it must be that I'm locked away. That I took the fall for you. I hope Gregory keeps you warm. I hope he screws you into oblivion every night, so you get the rest I doubt your conscious will allow.
I hope you can live with yourself because I know I could never live with you in my life ever again.
I placed the letter on the table and waited. There was no shame. No hurt. What did come was determination. I was going to prove, even if it was just to myself, that I wasn't that weak, sheltered girl anymore.
The insecure girl that would do anything for her father's approval made way for a woman with nothing left to lose.
A knock on the front door had me frowning at my reflection.What time is it?I didn't even know. More banging, it sounded a bit more urgent this time. I grabbed my robe from behind the closet and moved to see who was pounding on the door.
With my hand on the handle, I peeked through the peephole. "Oh shoot," I muttered when Dean's face came into focus. I didn't have the strength for the conversation we needed to have, but I also knew he wasn't going anywhere until we had a face to face.
Tightening the robe around my waist, I pushed down on the handle and pulled it toward me. A second later, a very tired looking Dean stepped forward.
I took him in from head to toe. Blond hair, neatly cut and not a strand out of place. Piercing blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he laughed. A strong clean-shaven jaw. My gaze traveled up and down his lean body. He wore a suit like it had been made for him—which it probably had. The white button-down beneath his black blazer pulled taut across his chest.
My tummy should be fluttering, and my pulse should be racing. It wasn't. My heart didn't sing like it did when Brett was in the vicinity. My body didn't screamtake me now.
"You didn't tell me you were coming home today." He said by way of greeting. I waited for the sound of his voice to coat my insides with warmth, but it never came.
I shrugged, "I didn't know."
Something flashed across Dean's face, but I was too damn tired to figure out what it was. He leaned forward and for the life of me, I couldn't tell you why I did what I did. Just as his lips came within inches of mine, I twisted my face to the side.
To his credit, he didn't say anything although he did scan the little he could see of my apartment.
"Can I come in?"
The right thing would have been to invite him in, make coffee and talk things through like adults. That's what my mother would have expected of me. "Dean, I just got home a few minutes ago," the lie tasted bitter on my tongue. "I'm beyond exhausted."
His Adam's apple bobbed up and down with a tentative nod of his head. "Dinner, tomorrow?"
When I agreed, we said our goodbyes without so much as a hug. Leaning back against the closed door, I stared at my ceiling and asked for the strength I needed to get through the next couple of days.
