Today was a decent day. Not good, but I was able to focus on the story I wrote without stopping to cry about Kit. I suppose that’s progress.
The story was about the resignation of Alderman Ted Lamont. He says he’s relocating to Phoenix for work, but it’s more likely his company booted him out of Chicago after what he did.
It doesn’t really matter, though. He’s leaving, and I’m not sorry. I wasn’t truly worried for my safety, but it’s still nice to know he’s moving on.
Moving on sounds like such a responsible adult thing to do, no matter what you’re talking about. And I’m normally the ultimate example of responsible adulting, but I just can’t seem to move on from Kit.
My heart still hurts just as much as it did when I left his apartment after the break-up. We’d hardly even gotten started when we said goodbye.
There aren’t many people out walking tonight, mostly people taking their dogs for an evening walk. I left for work when it was still dark and now I’m walking home in the dark. My life is so exciting. I’m fine with that, though. Having work to focus on keeps me from focusing on what I could have had with Kit.
As I approach Gram’s building, I notice someone sitting on the front steps. I can’t really see who it is and it’s unusual for someone to wait there.
I’ve almost made it to the steps when the person looks up and our eyes meet.
It’s Kit. My heart starts to beat faster as he stands up. He’s wearing jeans and the dark leather jacket I grabbed the sides of when he kissed me for the first time. He looks good. Great, really.
“Hey,” he says, his breath creating a puff of cold air in front of him.
“Hi.” I can barely get the word out.
He’s here. Kit is right here. He came to see me. I put my hand on the stair railing to steady myself.
“Can we talk?” he asks, his eyes determined under a vulnerable expression.
“Sure. Do you want to come up?”
He looks over at the building and says, “I was kind of hoping we could walk.”
I want tell him I was a fool. He was right—by overthinking things, I pretty much stomped on a flower that was close to blooming. If I had just let things between us grow some more, everything would be different.
“Okay,” I say instead. “Walking sounds good.”
He turns in the opposite direction I came from, and I fall into step beside him.
“How have you been?” he asks me.
“Good,” I answer automatically. “You?”
With a wry grin, he says, “Honestly, awful. I really miss you, Molly.”
I cringe, wishing I wouldn’t have said I was good.
“I miss you, too,” I say quickly. “I meant that I’m good in that I’m functioning and all, going to work, but yeah…it’s been tough. I was just thinking about you on my walk home.”
“Thinking about what an asshole I was to you?”
“No.”
He glances down at me. “I was, Molly. And I’m sorry.”
“I’m not proud of the way I treated you, either.”
I look over at Kit and see the intent expression on his face. “There’s something I want to tell you,” he says. “It’s something I hoped I’d never have to tell a soul, but this afternoon I realized…I guess my perspective has been wrong for a long time.”
“You sound apprehensive. Are you sure you want to tell me? Because I’ve been thinking a lot since that night, and I’ve realized I was overthinking things. We just started dating. Of course there are unanswered questions. That’s the way it’s supposed to work.”
The corners of Kit’s lips turn up a bit. “There is no rulebook. If you were hiding something from me, I wouldn’t have liked it either.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to put this out there. Not because I think it will fix everything, but because…I at least want you to understand.”
“Okay.”
We both smile at a couple passing with their dog, and then Kit exhales hard.
“Here goes. I told you during our interviews that my dad owned a sporting goods store when I was growing up. It was pretty popular in Orville, our town. Dad had a business partner in the store, Jim. Sara and I rode the bus to the store after school let out instead of heading home when Mom and Lance were in Iowa City for his treatments.” He stops to take another big breath in and out. “Sara and I helped Dad with inventory and stocking shelves, but one day, Jim asked Dad if he could put me to work in the back office, making copies, stapling stuff together, that kind of stuff. Dad said that was fine, and…Jesus, I still remember it so clearly. The very first day, Jim had me alone in his office, and he…he touched me over the front of my pants. I was fucking mortified.”