sight I could ever imagine is her bundled in a ball on the kitchen floor, whimpering against the cabinets. Her shoulders heave as she lets out another wretched sob and it makes me feel that much worse.
I didn’t know it could get any lower than this.
“Kat.” Her name is a gentle murmur from my lips, nearly a plea for her to stop. She’s crying so hard, lost in the sadness, that she didn’t hear me come in. My voice startles her and she jumps back slightly, causing the cabinet door to rattle.
Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead it appears she’s holding her breath.
“What’s wrong?” I ask and the second the question is uttered, I hate myself. It’s obviously me. I did this. “What can I—”
“Nothing,” she answers curtly, cutting me off, more embarrassment and shame present in her tone than the anger I’d anticipated. “I’m fine.” She uses the sleeve of her shirt to wipe at her face, leaving her tearstained cheeks bright pink.
“You aren’t fine.”
“I’ll be fine,” she says, and her tone is harsher this time. “I don’t want to cry in front of you,” she adds with sincerity. I know the comment isn’t intended to hurt me as I walk deeper into the kitchen. Kat’s just being honest.
“That’s what I’m here for,” I tell her and then feel like an asshole. I haven’t been here in days. I can see Kat’s lips part with some sarcastic response, so I’m quick with my next words. “I know we’re going through some shit and I’m not making things any better. But I’m here now.”
She doesn’t respond as she pushes her hair out of her face and visibly focuses on calming herself down. Glancing up at me only causes her expression to crumple as if she’ll start crying again. She rips away her gaze and silence separates us.
I can’t help but notice the curve of her shoulders and the way her breasts move as she steadies her breathing. My body is ringing with the need to touch her. The need to make her pain go away. “Whatever it is,” I say, “it’s going to be okay.” I don’t know how many nights I’ve told her that.
And it’s always been true. “We’ll get through this.”
“I’m crying because of you!” she screams at me and angrily brushes away her tears.
“I’m sorry, but I promise, it’s not what you think.”
She only huffs in disbelief and shakes her head, refusing to look at me. My blood turns cold and I struggle to breathe, but still I walk toward her. Every step is careful and cautious. I just want to hold her. I want to fix this more than anything.
I can’t lose her.
“Kat.” I say her name as if it’s my only prayer, but she doesn’t look at me.
As I crouch down next to her, Kat stands just to get away from me and it kills me. She wipes under her eyes then turns from me, giving me nothing but her back. The cup that was on the counter clinks as she places it in the sink.
Her shoulders shudder.
All I can hear is her heavy breathing as she ignores me. Moments pass, my hands clammy and my body hot. I don’t know what to say or do, but I stay. I won’t leave. I can do that at the very least. So I stand there, waiting and wanting her to tell me anything. I will wait forever for her if that’s what she needs.
“They broke in through the window,” she states with a shaky voice, followed by a deep inhale, and my blood freezes.
“Who?”
She shrugs her shoulders, turning to look at me with an expression of disbelief and answering sarcastically, “How the fuck should I know?”
“Where?” I follow behind her as she walks into the guest bathroom in the hallway. The second the door opens, I’m hit by the arctic air coming in through the broken window. It’s only a half bath and inside the sink are shards of glass.
“They didn’t take anything that I can tell.”
“What the fuck,” I mutter beneath my breath, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Were you home?” I should have been here. I should have been protecting her.
She shakes her head no, her hair sweeping along her shoulders as she crosses her arms to protect her from the chill. “I called the cops as soon as I got in. I knew something was off. They went through your drawers, by the way. You may