Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“I need to clean this up.” I flicked my wrist to the minor mess I’d made. I’d gone into autopilot, keeping the kitchen clean and tidy, but there were still dishes to be done.
“You need to come outside with me,” Kane commanded. “You need some fresh air.”
I wanted to argue with him, but Kane had a tone that brooked no argument.
I let him lead me outside, inhaling the crisp air. Summer was still holding on, but the bite of fall could be felt at two in the morning.
My eyes scurried to the screen of the monitor Kane was holding.
“She’s good,” Kane promised me.
He then sat in the chair on the deck. I went to sit in the one beside it, but Kane pulled me onto his lap. Delicately, though. Not roughly like he had before. I was mostly healed, but my body was tender. Kane knew that, and handled me with care.
I stiffened at first, conscious of my new body, my extra pounds. Kane’s arms settled around me, and like a balm, they settled me.
The sound of the ocean crashed gently against the silence of the night.
“I’ve worked in some of the toughest kitchens in the world,” I said. “I know that doesn’t sound like something to brag about—”
“It most certainly is something to brag about,” Kane interrupted, rubbing my arms.
I rolled my eyes. He was not about to let me get one self-deprecating thought in, even when he was struggling with sleep deprivation.
“Those kitchens break people,” I continued. “The environment, the stress, the treatment from the head chef, others trying to get ahead of you. There is a reason why my profession is fraught with drug addictions and mental breakdowns. It is not for the weak.”
“You’re not weak.”
“I used to think so.” I rubbed my eyes, trying to hold on to my train of thought. “I not only survived all of that, but I didn’t become an addict, didn’t suffer any kind of mental breakdown or throw knives at waiters like some of my contemporaries had.
“I used to think that because I didn’t crack in those kitchens, nothing would break me. When you were locked away, when I thought that you didn’t want me...” I looked up at the house, the tranquil light coming from it, then down to where Mabel was still sleeping on the monitor. “When I thought you didn’t want her, I was close to losing it. I didn’t, though. I lost my mind a little, not having my kitchen, my city, my order, but I managed. And then you came back, and I thought that there was nothing more that could break me, certainly not a little baby who sleeps most of its life.” I smiled at the black and white image of our sleeping baby. “Or is supposed to sleep.” I glanced back at Kane. “But that’s what I feel. Broken. Not because I don’t want her, us. I want both of you more than anything. But I truly am doubting whether I’m capable of it.”
I expected Kane to immediately rush to assure me of how capable I was, to lift me up as he had throughout this entire experience, but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything at first, he just ran his hands up and down my arms, considering.
“Yeah, I get that,” he nodded. “I feel it too. Not broken exactly. But fuckin’ terrified. And, babe, I’ve been in scary situations. Not just jumpin’ shit or riding motorcycles or crashing motorcycles. I’ve been in bad situations with bad fuckin’ people. And some part of me always figured I’d handle it somehow.” His fingers stroked my hair. “Now, with her, I’m scared shitless. I don’t know how to handle her; all I know is I love her so fucking much it hurts my bones.”
He too glanced down at the monitor, clenching it so I could see his knuckles whiten under the pressure. After a handful of seconds, he glanced up to me. He looked at me lovingly. Gone was the resentment and contempt he’d arrived there with. We hadn’t even properly spoken about the events that occurred. It had felt so pressing before. Now it didn’t seem to matter as much.
“And you,” he murmured, tucking loose hair behind my ear. “I see you givin’ all of yourself, your very insides, to being the best mother you can be, then driving yourself crazy thinking that’s not enough. And I want to help. Want to tell you I’m constantly mystified by you, in awe of you. That sometimes, I just watch the two of you together and want to find a way to wrap you up and protect you both because I love you so fuckin’ much.”
He glanced down at the monitor again.
“But I can’t.” His eye twitched. “I can’t wrap her up and protect her from the world, though I’ll try my fuckin’ best. And I can’t fix you when you think you’re broken, even though I see you overflowing with brilliance. So I’ll wait.”