“I’m not mad at you.” He presses his lips together and looks down. He shakes his head gently. “It’s just a lot to process.”
I nod, but I can’t speak because my heart is pounding and my throat feels swollen, and I’m still not sure what to say.
He’s still looking down when he lets go of the roof of the truck. His eyes meet mine as he reaches into the truck and puts his right hand on my left thigh and his left hand under my right knee. He pulls me to the edge of the passenger seat so that I’m facing him.
Ledger then takes my face in his hands and tilts it so that I’m looking up at him. He blows out a slow breath, like what he’s about to say is hard to get out. “I’m sorry you lost him.”
I can’t hold back the tears after that. It’s the first time anyone has ever acknowledged that I lost Scotty that night too. Ledger’s words mean more to me than I think he can comprehend.
Agony spreads across his face as he continues. “What if Scotty can see how we’ve been treating you?” A tear forms and spills down his cheek. Just one lonely tear, and it makes me so sad. “I’m part of everything that’s been tearing you down all these years, and I’m sorry, Kenna. I’m so sorry.”
I place my hand over his chest, right over his heart. “It’s okay. What I wrote doesn’t change anything. It was still my fault.”
“It’s not okay. None of this is okay.” He’s cradling me in his arms with his cheek pressed against the top of my head. He runs his right hand in soothing circles over my back.
He holds me like that for a long time. I don’t want him to let go.
He’s the first person I’ve been able to share the full details of that night with, and I wasn’t sure if it would make things better or worse. But this feels better, so maybe that means something.
I feel like a weight has been lifted. It’s not the weight of the anchor that keeps me tethered under the surface—that won’t be lifted until I get to hold my daughter. But a small portion of my pain has attached to his sympathy, and it feels like he’s physically lifting me up for air, allowing me a few minutes to breathe.
He eventually pulls back far enough to assess me. He must see something on my face that makes him want to comfort me because he presses a soft kiss to my forehead while brushing my hair back tenderly. He kisses the tip of my nose and then plants a soft peck on my lips.
I don’t think he expected me to kiss him back, but I feel more for him in this moment than I ever have. I clutch his shirt in my fists and quietly beg his mouth for a much fuller kiss. He gives it to me.
His kisses feel like both forgiveness and promises. I imagine mine feel like apologies to him, because he keeps coming back for more every time we separate.
I end up on my back, and he’s halfway into his truck, hovering over me, our mouths pressed together.
When we’re in the thick of fogging up all the windows, he pulls away from my neck, and there’s a split-second look he gives me. It’s so quick; it’s a flicker, a flash. But I can tell he wants more in that quick glance, and so do I, so I nod and he pulls away and opens his glove box. He grabs a condom and starts to open it with his teeth, bracing himself up with one arm. I take this opportunity to slide my panties off and bunch my long skirt up around my waist.
He gets the package open, but then he pauses.
The seconds begin to drag as he silently stares down at me with contemplation.
Then he tosses the condom aside and lowers himself on top of me again. He presses a soft kiss against my lips. His breath is hot against my cheek when he says, “You deserve a bed.”
I drag a hand through his hair. “You don’t have a bed here?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Not even an inflatable mattress?”
“Our first two times were on an inflatable mattress. You deserve a real bed. And no, I don’t have either one here.”
“How about a hammock?”
He smiles at that, but still shakes his head.
“A yoga mat? I’m not picky.”
He laughs and kisses my chin. “Stop it, or we’ll end up fucking in this truck.”
I wrap my legs around his waist. “And that’s bad how?”
He groans into my neck, and then I lift my hips and he gives in.
He grabs the condom and finishes opening it. While he’s doing that, I’m unzipping his jeans.
He slides on the condom and then pulls me to the edge of the seat. His truck is the perfect height for this. Neither of us even has to adjust ourselves or change positions. He just grips my hips and pushes into me, and even though it isn’t a real bed, it’s still just as good as it was last night.