In my Arms Tonight (NYC Singles Book 2) (28 page)

“Nobody knows me. You don’t know many things about me, either. If relationships worked based on how much we knew someone, there would be no working relationships.”

Her mother’s laugh echoed a little too sharply against the yellow walls of the kitchen. “You sound like my boss at Laurel & Jefferson.”

“Klauss? You used to hate him.” Kat remembered her mother unloading that on her father a lot when she’d been younger.

“I hated him because he was always right. I hated being wrong all the time.” The giggles faded into a rueful smile. “But…”

“Is Alex’s age bothering you? Do you think the age difference between us is too much?” She wanted to get to the root of her mother’s unease.

“Not really. I always knew you’d marry someone older.”

“Are you worried because he doesn’t have parents?”

“It’s not his fault that he doesn’t have parents.”

“So what is it?” Kat wanted to put the cookie jar back before she was tempted to sneak another one, but the conversation was at the point where she couldn’t get up and leave. “His job too unstable?”

“I would definitely not have picked a politician to marry, but you’re not me and I’m hardly surprised at the choice. It’s… I can’t put my finger on it. He seems okay, but… I feel I don’t know everything about him. Are you hiding something about him?”

“A lot of things,” Kat admitted.

Being unable to lie was her greatest weakness.

Her mother shifted on the bar stool uneasily. “Any of them serious?”

Curving one leg over the other, Kat held up the last bit of cookie up. “Define serious.”

“Criminal activities, history of abuse, cheating, addiction, debt.” The woman had definitely been a lawyer and you could tell.

Kat stayed silent. What could she say without it sounding too revealing?

“Is it one of those things or all of those things?” her mother prodded, seconds later, wary.

“Some of those things.”

An angry sigh sliced through the quietness. “Why? Why’re you with a man like that? You’re not stupid, honey.”

“Mom, I can make my own decisions.” There was a bite in those words. She didn’t like being judged, especially for her romantic choices.

Raising both arms, her mother surrendered. “Yes you can, but for goodness’ sake, make intelligent choices. I don’t want you becoming a victim of… something.”

“He’s not abusive,” Kat clarified. While she didn’t want to reveal too much about Alex’s past, she also didn’t want her mom to carry around a false image of him.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“Just let it go.” Rising, Kat returned the cookie jar to its rightful place. Sometimes, silence was the best answer.

But she couldn’t leave, not when her mom was sitting in the kitchen shooting ice from her eyes and telegraphing in mom-speak that this conversation wasn’t over. You could never win with mothers unless you agreed with everything they said.

“Do you want me to help you to your room?” Kat ventured, sheepishly.

“I can navigate around the house just fine.”

“I’m going to sleep then. I’ll leave the lights on.” Kat’s feet didn’t budge.

“It doesn’t matter. Lights or not, I can’t see anything anyway.” The syllables were curt and irascible.

Kat heaved an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be passive-aggressive, Mom. Sulking is not mature.”

Her mother’s footsteps clicked on the kitchen floor. “Tell me you’ve thought about Alex carefully. That you are not doing this just because he saved you on the subway and you feel some misguided sense of gratitude.”

“You know me better than that. Alex might have made a few mistakes in his life, but who hasn’t? I don’t want to judge him by his past. I want to believe in him. In fact, I do.”

He’d come clean about his past, even when telling her could have cost him his political career. He’d always treated her with utmost respect and sincerity. She could trust him. She definitely could.

Her mother didn’t look so convinced, though. “You could be with someone better, sweetie. There are hundreds of men in this city. Hundreds of men who’re not dangerous.”

“There’s no one better for me,” Kat asserted. Nobody could be Alex. She loved him for who he was and that included the parts of him that appeared less than perfect to the world outside.

“Whatever makes you happy.” Her mother started moving out of the kitchen. Ducking her head, she gave the switch a pat and the lights went out.

Why did Kat not believe that her mom’s words were genuine?

They hiked across the obstacle course that was the living room. With it being so dark, Kat bumped into the couch, the vacuum cleaner, the coffee table and Keira’s tennis racquet, which she’d left lying in one corner. She could almost understand her mom’s frustration at being unable to see.

A soft creak later, the door to her parents’ room opened.

“Mom, if you want to send Dad on a vacation someday, give me a call. I’ll look after you,” Kat murmured.

A beat passed, followed by a nod that she could make out against a streak of moonlight.

“Love you, dear.” The words were almost inaudible.

“I love you, too.”

Then the fragile form tottered into the dark room.

“O
h, my goodness.” Kat leapt up from the kitchen counter at her house, where she’d been sitting and singing alone to the radio. “Did you cut yourself?”

Blood leaked out from the tiny slit in Alex’s finger. He drew his hand away from the cutting board, dropping the knife.

“No big deal.” Alex ran cold water from the faucet over the cut.

“You should’ve let me do it,” Kat mumbled, tiptoeing to check. When she took his finger in her hands, the cut was still oozing blood. “I’ll go and get a Band-Aid.”

“Don’t make a fuss over a scratch,” Alex argued, dabbing it against his T-shirt and turning off the faucet. It was clearly an attempt at being macho, because that cut was smearing red all over his skin again.

Kat gave him the kind of stare mothers gave their petulant children. He didn’t budge, choosing to hide his hand behind his back.

“Keep washing it.” She forced his hand against the jet of water from the tap then traipsed to her room.

Searching the drawers of her work desk, Kat tried to recall where she’d put the Band-Aids. She must have kept them in some really safe place, since she was such a paranoid organizer. But sometimes, she was so good at organization that she forgot which of the fifty-five storage spaces in her room she’d put the Band-Aids in.

A yellow manila folder peeked at her from the drawer. Realizing what it was, she pushed it away, as if physically distancing herself could erase the effect it had on her mind.

A file labeled ‘Secret.docx’ glared at her from her computer screen. Why was fate so determined to make her fold in?

Her hands dampened with sweat. Her heart clenched into a tight fist and blood trickled slowly through her arteries.

The evidence of Alex’s past was in that folder.

Guilt, anxiety and meaningless fear mixed into a cocktail and washed through her system. The pandemonium of thoughts that were a regular feature of her life now pushed against her waning willpower.

Once again, Kat tried to quell the chattering by chanting, “I’m okay,” over and over again, though she didn’t feel okay at all.

Switching to deep breaths, she unsuccessfully attempted to avoid her thoughts.

According to her psychotherapist (yes, she saw one now), who had a PhD in the subject, disengaging and letting the thoughts pass was the best course of action in case of such obsessive behaviors.

But these weren’t thoughts. This was her conscience. She couldn’t disengage from her conscience.

Stop, stop, stop
. Kat whipped her head about.

“I’m okay. The cut stopped bleeding.” Suddenly appearing from behind, Alex put his arms around her stomach.

When she opened her eyes, everything was blurry through the veil of tears. Alex’s lips nuzzled the nape of her neck.

The thread of pleasure that wrapped around her groin felt too much like pain. A pain she was inducing on herself.

Kat shut the drawer decisively.

One more day.

She could forget about it for one more day.

Alex was in a room full of fervent supporters when Kat squeezed into his campaign headquarters. The energy in here was explosive, closing in on her from every angle and bouncing off the walls. Cheers were loud and congratulatory. An emotional Alex basked in the sunshine of smiles and support, elated.

As she traipsed across the room, past many ‘Summer for Mayor’ posters and boards, he spotted her. Kat waved and let out a shout, joining the chorus of his supporters.

Whether he knew it or not, she’d given him this. She’d sat on the information and evidence she’d found, dragged her conscience through hell and spent many nights questioning herself so she wouldn’t print the facts that could have snatched this moment from him.

And it would be a lie if she said it hadn’t been hard on her, because it had been brutal.

The self-loathing was killing her. Sometimes at night, her conscience rose up and strangled her for being such a coward.

She’d never wanted to be the kind of woman who chose a man’s affection over her own values and principles, but in trying to protect Alex, she’d become precisely that kind of woman.

Alex’s shadow falling on her shook Kat out of her self-absorption.

“Baby, I won.”

He probably wanted to celebrate the moment with her in private, so he directed her away from the crowded space into an isolated room at the back. It invited a lot of stares from people around them, but Kat trusted that he’d deal with them later.

“Congratulations.” Clasping her arms around his lower back, she gathered her lips into something that she hoped resembled a smile.

Alex bent down to her mouth and took it. The kiss was a rush of dizzying emotions. It was barely four months since their relationship had begun, but his taste was so familiar to her, she could have been doing this with him for years.

Lazily, Kat shook her lips away, indecisive whether to linger or end the kiss. Alex was intoxicating, but she needed to let go.

“Exactly what I needed to top off my victory.” Alex offered her a smile, dredging up unwanted emotions.

She tapped on his stomach. “I’ll see you later?”

Alex was so drunk on happiness his whole face was red. “Can’t make it today. It’ll be crazy all day.”

Seeing him so happy lessened the feeling of self-betrayal scratching at her. If enduring two more months of unhappiness was the price to pay for his smile, maybe she could do it.

“That’s okay. We have the weekend.”

“We’ll go somewhere special,” Alex promised, and his brown eyes were so safe, so warm, they brought unwanted tears to her eyes. She could drown in those eyes and never know that she was drowning.

“Sure.”

Looking down, she backed away, cutting across the room and away from him.