The Fortunates (Unfortunate #2) - Skyla Madi Page 0,65
off when my stare meets Kade’s.
He’s watching me with this…look. And I know it all too well. He glances at my lips.
“You’re sexy when you’re in charge, you know,” he teases, leaning toward me from his position.
I try so very hard to acknowledge his playfulness. I want nothing more than to reciprocate his teasing, but I can’t. It’s like that part of my brain isn’t working. All I can do is frown.
“What, not even a smile?”
Not even a smile. I slump in my seat. “I’m not really in the mood to play, Kaden.”
He slips off the desk and crouches beside me. “What’s wrong, Nine?”
“Stop calling me that.” I push out of my chair and stand up.
I’m cracking under the pressure—under his pressure. Is he pressuring me? I don’t know. It feels like it. Maybe he isn’t. Maybe I’m just overreacting.
He frowns. “You don’t like it?”
I lift my hand to pinch the bridge of my nose, but it trembles uncontrollably halfway, so clenching it, I drop it back to my side. What is happening to me? Now isn’t the time to spiral out of control. I can’t let Vince break me.
I won’t.
I swallow the lump in my throat and look away. “I don’t want to be Nine anymore. I want to be more like you. I need to be more like you. Nine the Unfortunate can’t do what needs to be done…but Anna the Fortunate can.”
I feel his eyes on me. I know he’s judging me. I know he’s wondering if this rebellion is too much for me or if all of this planning I’ve done has stressed me out.
It hasn’t. The only time I don’t think about me is when I force myself to think about others.
He straightens his legs and stands tall. “Is there something wrong?”
I pout. “Kaden…”
Shaking his head, he extends his hand to me and I close my mouth.
“Come on. I want to show you something.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “You want to show me something?”
He nods earnestly, so I slip my hand into his. Tears well in my eyes at his gentle touch. His skin is soft, much softer than I remember. He tugs me along behind him and escorts me out of the room. I don’t make eye contact or engage in small talk as he leads me out of the house and through the town. I’m lost in my own thoughts, not paying attention to the people that mosey around me. I’m sure they stare and whisper at us, but I’m too focused on myself to really notice. All I can think about is my hand in his. On occasion, he strokes it with his thumb. He hasn’t realised I’m not wearing my engagement ring. What am I going to say when he finally does realise? The thought simultaneously squeezes my stomach and my heart.
Kade escorts me out to a field away from prying eyes and straining ears. He glances sideways at me when we approach a large rug on the ground, adorned with a white wicker basket and tall wine glasses. I sit on the soft rug, tucking my legs underneath me. Kade sits beside me and I steal a glance at him as he reaches for the basket and pulls it open. I can see the strain on his face, the tremendous strength he’s using to force himself to be into this…this “date.” I’m not blind, though. I see through his façade. Underneath his fake happy expression, I see his tired, heavy eyes and the slight downturn in the corners of his lips. I appreciate the effort he’s gone to to make me happy. He knows something is wrong, but he hasn’t questioned me. He hasn’t demanded answers. He thinks it’s him so he’s trying to fix it…like a real husband would.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, fishing through the basket.
I shake my head, my stomach turning at the thought of eating when I’m already filled to the brim with stress. “No. Not really.”
He retrieves a bottle of wine and holds it up. “Wine, then?”
Not wanting to turn him down again, I nod. “Please.”
I glance around us as silence falls. He’s picked the most perfect spot for a picnic. I tip my head back and look up the massive tree that casts shade over us. This is a dream come true. To relax under the shade of a tree, surrounded by grass and weeds that aren’t as obnoxious as some would believe. I hate that this dream of mine is tainted by stress…