Kit (Chicago Blaze 8)

“Gram!” My chin drops with shock. “I can’t believe you’d ever say that to anyone.”

She smiles as she takes a sip from her mug of tea. “Oh, I was a pistol when I was younger, Moll. Your grandpa forgot our first wedding anniversary and when he got home from work the next day, I’d donated all his clothes to a charity for the homeless.”

I laugh, shocked by this side of my grandma I never knew existed.

“What did he do?”

She shrugs. “We couldn’t afford new clothes, so he went to a secondhand store and bought two pairs of pants and two shirts, and that’s all he had for a few months.” She laughs, her eyes sparkling. “One of the shirts was too small for him, and he kept busting a button off it.”

“Was he mad?”

“No, he got over it pretty quickly. And he never forgot our anniversary again.”

I finish off my slice of cake, wishing I could have known my gram when she was younger.

“Those were such good times,” she says wistfully. “Hard since we didn’t have much, but also filled with passion. There was a lot of love, but also plenty of arguing and anger and all those other things that make the world go ‘round.”

“I guess predictability makes my world go ‘round,” I say, an edge in my tone. “I thought I could have those other things, but…it’s hard. For me, anyway.”

Gram covers my hand with her soft, wrinkled one. “It’s hard for everyone else, too, Moll. No one has it all figured out. Anyone who says they do is a liar. All of us feel scared and self-conscious and worried at one time or another.”

“Was I unfair to Kit?” I ask, voicing the question that’s been plaguing me. “Was I expecting him to be perfect when it’s not possible?”

“I don’t know. Were you?”

I didn’t tell Gram the specifics of my breakup with Kit. We’re close, and I know she wouldn’t judge me, but I don’t think I could tell anyone about Kit’s insistence on having things his way sexually. It’s too intimate, and no one should know but the two of us.

“I tend to assume the worst,” I admit. “And overthink things.”

“You assume the worst because of your horrible marriage, and it will take time to heal from that.”

“Kit’s very different from Zach. He made me feel like I was just right exactly as I am. But then when we argued, I guess I found out what he really thinks.”

You have to analyze every little thing to death.

The sting of his words is still fresh. I didn’t pursue a relationship with Kit; he sought me out. And he knew I’m not like most women.

I cut another slice of cake and put in on my plate.

“I haven’t eaten since lunch,” I tell Gram, my tone miserable.

“You eat that whole cake if you want to.”

It’s after 8:00 p.m. I’m back to keeping my old hours—about twelve a day in the office followed by a couple hours with Gram and Mr. Darcy and some sleep before I wake up and do it all again the next day.

I’ve realized this week that I was trying to convince myself I loved my solitary life before I met Kit. I told myself women who got heart-eyed over texts from men were silly and naive. Then I became one of those women, and it felt good. Really good.

I’m halfway through my second piece of cake before I sigh softly and get up to pour a glass of milk.

“I wanted to believe there was someone out there who would get me,” I tell Gram. “Who would see me for everything I am instead of everything I’m not. I thought Kit did.”

“And based on one conversation, you’re so sure he doesn’t?” She lowers her brows in judgment.

“Gram, you think he’s the best man ever because he helped me look for Mr. Darcy. He told me before we broke up that I’m suspicious and I question everything.”

“Is that true?”

I sigh, exasperated. “I guess it’s true, yeah. But that’s just who I am.”

“It probably makes him feel like you don’t trust him.”

“How can I trust him? We just started dating. Trust takes time.”

“It does, but why assume the worst in the meantime?”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” I grumble.

“Yours, Moll. I’m just worried you wrote Kit off quickly because it’s easier. It’s safer. You don’t have to wait to find out if he’ll break your heart if you just end things before he has a chance to.”

Her words sting because there’s truth in them. But I also know I’m not wrong for questioning Kit on why he wants to control everything in bed. I could have handled things better the other night, but he could have, too.

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” I tell Gram wearily. “Let’s watch a show.”