She understood the request and the significant look he gave her. He wanted to talk, to continue the conversation they’d barely started before. Kelly would prefer to put it off, since the discussion promised to be hard and she was already exhausted, but she couldn’t bring herself to push Peter away.
She stretched her arm out until he’d wrapped his hand around hers. “Okay. Do you need anything before we go, Grandmama? I’ll put the flowers up when I get back.”
“I suppose that’s acceptable,” her grandmother said in her typical imperious manner. She aimed a cool look at Peter. “Don’t keep her out too late or take her to a dangerous part of town.”
Peter visibly bit back a response, turning his face away to hide his expression.
“Grandmama, please,” Kelly sighed. She just couldn’t understand why her grandmother treated Peter this way. He’d done absolutely nothing to deserve it. “Don’t be that way.”
“And why shouldn’t I be concerned about my granddaughter? You’re the only one I have left.”
For some reason, the last words sent a shooting pain through Kelly’s chest. She almost strangled on a sudden rise of emotion as she processed the sentiment.
Her grandmother had three granddaughters, but two of them had already married and moved away. Kelly hadn’t. Kelly wasn’t supposed to. Kelly was all her grandmother had left.
“Let’s go,” Peter murmured, pulling Kelly toward him.
She nodded and waved goodbye to her grandmother, since she couldn’t bring herself to speak. She let Peter lead her down the front steps and the paved front walk until they reached the sidewalk. They’d moved out of sight of the house before Peter said, his voice rough and tense, “Don’t let her manipulate you that way.”
“She’s not manip—”
“Of course she is.” He sounded angry—angrier than the situation warranted. “She’s trying to make you feel guilty so you won’t leave her to live your own life. And it’s not right. I know you love her, Kelly, but it’s not right.”
“It’s just her way. She doesn’t mean any harm.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm, but she’s going to do harm anyway if you let her push you around that way.”
“I don’t let her push me around. I’ve always stood up to her.” Kelly’s shoulders stiffened in automatic defensiveness. “You know I have. She’s not usually this bad. I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately, but I’m sure it’s just a passing thing.”
“It’s not a passing thing. She doesn’t like me, and she’s trying to get you to dump me. She’s going to keep doing it until she wins.”
Kelly felt more and more like crying, a fact she found infuriating. There was nothing to cry about here. “It’s not about you. It can’t be. We’ve been friends for years, and she’s always been perfectly happy for me to hang out with you.”
“But she’s never been threatened by me before. Now we’re married, and she’s afraid there’s a real possibility of me taking you away from her. You know it as well as I do. That’s the only explanation for her behavior.” He was clearly stewing about the situation, his muscles tense, his jaw clenched, his skin damp with perspiration although it wasn’t a particularly warm evening.
“But you’re not going to take me away from her.”
Peter flinched. And his tone was different as he muttered, “She doesn’t know that.”
Her grandmother thought the marriage was real. And the fact that it wasn’t—that it had always only been an accident—was inexplicably painful to Kelly. Peter was still holding her right hand, but she fiddled with his signet ring on her left hand.
Pretty soon, she would have to take it off.
She should probably just go ahead and take it off now, since everything was getting so complicated.
She didn’t want to take the ring off, though. She loved it.
They walked in silence for another minute, until they reached a small park, where Peter led her over to a bench. It was late, and the only people around were a few other couples walking and a homeless man on the sidewalk across the street.
Kelly sat on the bench, still holding Peter’s hand, and tried to get her emotions under control, the way she’d always lived her life before.
“I’m sorry about before,” Peter said without transition.
“Sorry about what?”
“About before. About Damon. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.”
The apology should have made her feel better, but it just made a shudder intensify inside her, like something strong was growing, desperately trying to get out. She swallowed hard, staring in front of her, at a small fountain, rather than at Peter’s face. “Why did you?”