Say It's Not Fake - Sarah J. Brooks Page 0,60

thankfully, Kyle didn’t comment on them. I questioned myself a thousand times. Was this the right thing to do? Could I really be the person Kyle and Katie needed me to be? What if I ruined his chance to keep his daughter? I would never forgive myself. It was too much pressure. I would cave. It’s what I did. I’d run, and that would be the end of it.

Then I looked at Kyle, his hazel eyes bright. And at Katie, his beautiful daughter, who I had grown to care deeply about in the short time I had known her.

I had lived a selfish life for so long—closing the doors around me. It was time to fling them open. It felt good to do something that would help two people that had started to matter so much to me.

I swung my legs out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the thick rug pile. Kyle had done everything he could to make the room cozy and inviting. I could still smell the fresh paint on the walls. He had chosen yellow, which made me smile. It was practically the same color as my room at home.

“I hope you like it,” he said, sounding almost shy as he opened the door to my new room.

I had seen it earlier when I dropped my stuff off, and my mother and I had been shocked in the best way possible at the attention to detail Kyle had gone through in such a short time.

“It’s perfect, Kyle. I love it.”

He stood staunchly in the open doorway, not venturing inside. “I remembered you liked yellow. Or at least you used to …”

“I still love yellow. It’s a great choice.”

Kyle looked around me to the stuffed toy on my bed, and he went still. A myriad of emotions flitted across his face, and I couldn’t get a read on any of them.

“You kept it.” His voice was hoarse.

I glanced over my shoulder at the stuffed dog that resembled my childhood pet, Bongo. I felt my throat tighten. “It’s the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me.” I didn’t tell him how, when I found it the next morning when I finally came home after spending the night with the man I had abandoned Kyle for, I cried. I had sobbed my eyes out because I knew at that moment that I was the biggest asshole that had ever lived. Kyle had left, most likely to go back home, and he left behind this reminder that he knew me. That he loved me. That he saw me. Better than most people.

I had pushed those feelings down as deep as I could shove them and tried to forget they existed. But I kept the stuffed Bongo. I told myself it was to remember the dog I had loved so much. However, subconsciously I knew that it was just as much about the man who had given it to me.

Kyle rubbed his eyes. “I thought you’d throw it away.” His words were strained.

I had looked up at him, willing him to see—to know …

“Never,” I had whispered, unable to speak louder, the words becoming lost in all the things I couldn’t vocalize.

We had stood there, not quite looking at each other, our eyes meeting then drifting away. His body was a coiled spring. Mine was just as taut. Anticipation thrummed between us, but it fizzled out before it could be realized.

“Make yourself at home. I’d better go see to Katie.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. A light peck. Nothing more.

And then he was gone.

I looked over at the vanity table against the far wall. It was ornate and made of white stained wood, carved into intricate flourishes. Kyle had even gotten a large beveled glass mirror bordered with Hollywood style bulbs that dimmed. It was the most beautiful piece of furniture I had ever seen.

“I thought you might need a place to keep your makeup,” he had told me when I went over and opened the drawers.

He had no idea how considerate the gesture was. Right now, all my supplies were in boxes in the closet. I hadn’t gotten them out since I moved back, feeling there was no place for that part of my life here in Southport. But here was Kyle offering it back to me in such a small, significant way. He was a man of tiny, meaningful gestures.

I could hear Katie’s laughter drift up the stairs, making me smile. I was quickly becoming

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