I take my frustration out on my body as I angrily scrub with the bath pouf.
I hate what Killian did behind my back. The lies. The torture. That I’m not only married to but madly in love with a person capable of torturing someone else astounds me. I get that he was angry, that he wanted to lash out, but the extremes he’s gone to…
Maybe he’s also madly in love, but what about the ‘madly’ part? And is it madness on my side if I consider putting this behind us?
My initial reaction when the truth stared in my face in that basement was that maybe I’d gone from the frying pan straight into the flames. But now? Now, I’m kind of confused.
But bottom line, despite being confused about what’s going on with me and the man I married, it’s also poignant and hits me hard that Ray tried to separate me from my loved ones and yet Killian orchestrated me having time with my bestie.
***
I’m relieved when I emerge from the bathroom to see an empty bed. The idea of facing his penetrating gaze unnerves me. I head into the closet and get dressed for work, acting like it’s not casual day, then grab some black leggings and a tunic sweater for Susanna.
***
Killian stands at the pink marble counter smiling, in a white muscle shirt and black trackpants while Susanna sits on the counter in the pair of pink flannel pajamas I lent her. But she’s sitting in almost the exact spot where he fucked me. Where he filmed me. And now it feels like my skin is crawling with bugs.
Suse has a big coffee mug to her lips and pulls it away to give me a big smile.
The coffee smell? Is it about to make me hurl? Ugh. I’m not sure.
“Mornin’,” I greet, eyes on Susanna. “I got some clothes out for you. I’ll go put them in your room.”
“This is the life,” she answers, smiling wide. “Your mister making me coffee, you laying out clothes for me. Can you two adopt me? Don’t tell my mom.”
Killian laughs and then he moves around the counter and kisses me, putting his arms around me.
“Morning,” he says softly against my neck, making goosebumps break out, “Want coffee today?”
“The c-word. Ugh.”
His body shakes with silent laughter.
“Actually, I think I might want to try a bit of half-caf. Not sure if I’ll get it down or not, but I think I need some wake-up juice.” I say this into his chest and then take a step back, trying to avoid looking at his face.
He rounds the counter and opens the cupboard where the coffee is kept, nabbing the half-caf I bought just before we went to Vegas. I bought it for nighttime coffees so it wouldn’t keep me up all night.
“Giving up coffee? Ugh. That sucks. Bad enough you have to give up wine,” Suse says.
“I can safely have a bit of caffeine if I need it, Withdrawals are real, but the smell of it makes me nauseous.”
I reach into the fridge and grab the bottle of apple juice and pour a small glass so I can take my prenatal vitamin. I forgot to take it last night.
Killian smirks at me and his eyes are twinkling. “Taste good?”
I lift my brows in question and his eyes land on the glass in my hand.
Apple juice.
Yeah. My post-orgasm drink of choice. My cheeks flame.
Susanna pipes up. “I’m gonna go shower. I’ll grab those clothes. Where are they?” She hops down off the counter, much to my relief.
“The bench at the end of the bed. Oh, let me grab you some stuff for the guest bathroom. I don’t know if there’s any conditioner in there.”
“I’m good. I’ve got travel sized stuff in my bag. That’s why I carry the big purse – always prepared for an overnighter. With a clean pair of panties and my hair stuff at minimum.” She winks and flounces off with her mug in hand.
Killian passes me my ceramic travel mug. And as the aroma comes at me, acid bubbles up in my throat. I pop the lid on tight.
“Maybe in a bit,” I say and finish my last sip of apple juice.
He smooths my damp hair behind my ear.
“So, don’t take any shit from them today. Right?”
I sigh. “I wish you wouldn’t have done that yesterday.”
“I know you do. But it’s done.”
I give him a dirty look, annoyance flaring.
“A lot of stuff is done and we need to move forward, right?” he adds.
I swallow and blow out a breath. “Not always that simple.”
“All that matters here with your job situation is that you know you don’t have to put up with shit. You don’t need that job.”
“For the last time, I like working.”
“Then work for me. Or don’t. Start your own business. Whatever makes you happy.”