King’s Queen by Marie Johnston

Chapter 11

Kate

Light streamedthrough large picture windows. The ceiling was arched, lending an openness to the space that would’ve been smothered with regular-height ceilings. The apartment’s open floor plan did the same. A spacious island and ample counter space were inviting, and each of the two bedrooms was large and square.

For a moment, I was alone in the living area. I closed my eyes. Traffic buzzed outside those massive windows. The muffled echoes of slammed doors resonated through the walls. Voices carried down the hall.

No matter how beautiful, it was still an apartment. Way more sizable than the hole I’d lived in after I’d gotten my master’s and landed the job at the library. But an apartment all the same.

The manager of the complex exited the farthest bedroom he’d sworn would make a plush office when he’d learned I didn’t have kids. Another office. Yay. He’d stepped away and taken a call. I’d let reality sink in and rob my good mood with it.

“Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly. Kurt was a nice guy. He hadn’t given off any creepy vibes. And I’d been watching for them, since I was a single woman looking for a place to live where I wouldn’t be the only one with access to the front door.

“No problem. It’s nice.”

He strode through the room, his stockinged feet sinking into the high-quality carpet. “The third-floor units really are the best. We can utilize the area around us better without running into another unit.”

I agreed. But there were still three other units around me. One next to me, one across the hall, and one playing heavy bass music under me.

I missed my house.

Kurt was oblivious to the noise. For an apartment, it was minor. The place I’d lived in when I’d met Aiden had been party central for anyone around drinking age. My neighbors had been nice guys, but they’d loved company and drinking until my alarm clock went off in the morning.

Kurt dug into a folder he carried with a clipboard. “The application process is all online nowadays, but I’m old school.” He flashed a congenial smile. “I’ve printed off the application so you can read all the fine print.”

And so I had a sheaf of paper floating around that’d keep me from forgetting this apartment was available for half my salary. Kurt was nice, but he was still a salesman of sorts.

It was a fine place though. The building had an elevator and was close to the gym I was considering joining, though I couldn’t yet bring myself to do more than purchase daily passes.

Foolish optimism, or abject denial. I couldn’t decide.

He pulled out a three-page document that was stapled together. “We do ask for references.”

I held in my groan. What was I going to do, have Aiden tell him that I was a decent roommate? That I paid for my half of the grocery bills? I stuffed the panic down. It hadn’t been that long since I’d lived in an apartment.

“Another reason why I print out the application,” he continued. “It’s a lot of information we don’t have at our fingertips if we’ve lived in one place for a while.”

Astute Kurt. I’d given him my maiden name when I’d called. No reason to do differently until I was actually signing legal documents. But my trepidation at looking at new places must’ve shone like a lighthouse beacon. Add in the lack of enthusiasm over the beautiful apartment and he’d figured my situation out. I accepted the papers from him.

He folded his hands in front of him. “Any questions? Would you like to see another unit?”

“No, I’ll think on this.”

He rubbed his temples, one of the many nervous tics he had. “These do tend to move fast—when they’re open.”

A kind, and anxious, fellow. Still a salesman. “I understand.”

Beaming, he stuck his hand out. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. McDonough.”

“Thank you, Kurt.” I’d told him to call me Kate. Mostly because hearing my maiden name only reminded me that I’d been too chicken to give him my real name.

I parted ways with Kurt, relief melting off my shoulders the farther I got from the massive apartment building. Tossing the papers in the back seat, I slid behind the driver’s seat and heaved out a long breath.

This was the first apartment I’d looked at since I’d left my house, and I’d hated the experience.

Aiden had asked me for time, but we weren’t much different than his cattle: going through the chutes and coming out the other side in a pen that looked exactly the same. Except Aiden and I weren’t even going through the motions anymore. He hadn’t called me since I’d ditched him at the Thai place.

My phone buzzed. No one called me except for Aiden, but when I glanced at the phone, it read Dad.

“Hey, Katie-bear.” My nickname had survived the divorce. My brothers shunned most things related to our father, but Katie-bear had stuck. “I’m coming through tomorrow, late morning. You free?”

Dad’s visits were normally bittersweet. I was happy he called me, then the guilt set in. A little resentment that he only hit me up when he was coming through town for his job. Today I expected a bigger hit of bitterness, but it didn’t come. Tomorrow he’d be saving me from a day of figuring out how to stay out of Mom and Randall’s way. They didn’t get much time together when they weren’t exhausted. They didn’t need a mopey daughter to deal with.

“Sure. Tell me when and where.”

“I’ll know better when I stop tonight. I’ll message you. Love you, Katie-bear.”

I hung up, a smile playing over my lips. It faded seconds later. I could feel bad about how Dad only called when his route took him through town, how he was another man in my life with hurtful priorities. But this time it was about my brothers. Dad never called them. He’d send a Christmas card to Jason and Matt, include some money for the kids. The effort of facing their wrath and answering for his behavior kept him from two-way communication. I’d seen what that kind of behavior had done to my brothers. How they’d acted out as kids. The anger they still carried as adults.

I’d seen the effects from the perspective of a child and an adult. I’d observed it and acknowledged it on an unconscious level, until now.

Before the wedding, Aiden and I had discussed having kids. I’d wanted a family. I’d been bearing down on thirty, I’d been getting married, and I’d felt it was my time. He’d asked me to wait for a while. Work and all that. I’d waited. More unconscious acknowledgment. We weren’t going to have kids. We were never going to have kids.

Work and all that.

I didn’t want my kids to feel like my brothers did. If I stayed with Aiden, would he change his mind? If he didn’t, then what?

* * *

The bustle of the café,and the constant stream of vehicles and semis outside the five-foot-tall picture windows, made it easier to tell my dad about the last month of my life.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, kiddo.” Dad took a long pull from his black-as-tar coffee and pulled his teeth back like the cup was half filled with vodka. He’d quit drinking shortly after he and Mom had split, and no coffee was safe around him. If they figured out a way to give it via IV, he’d be first in line.

“It is what it is.” The good thing about spilling my story to him was that he never got overly emotional. If he wasn’t going to ooze sympathy and give me a hug, then I wouldn’t cry while telling him.

His smile was small, crinkling extra lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen them, along with the additional gray at his temples and the widening thin patch of sandy-blond hair on top of his head. “Just like your mom.” I shot him a questioning look and he elaborated. “You aren’t going to put up with anyone’s bullshit.”

I wished that were true, but pride sang through me anyway. Was this why I couldn’t cut Dad out of my life entirely? His scraps of affection made me feel special. I hadn’t wanted to marry a guy like my dad. But I’d married one who made me feel the same way. A guy who put his life and everything in it first, but when he turned that focus on me? Addicting.

Our food arrived and Dad dug into his omelet and hash browns. I used a fork on my jumbo double chocolate muffin. I’d backed off this type of breakfast, the kind that was actually a piece of cake in disguise, but since leaving Aiden, I had it at least once a week. Maybe two. Or three.

I finished before Dad did and dug out my phone. “I recorded some of the kids’ wrestling matches. Want to see?”

“I hate to rush off.” Dad pushed his plate away and dug a couple of twenties out of his wallet. “But I gotta be in Bismarck by tonight. Send them to me and tell the boys I’ll catch them next time?”

I never told my brothers anything of the sort, and I wouldn’t wonder if he’d watch the videos. Wrestling was Randall’s thing and Dad probably harbored some bitterness of his own. “Sure. I might stay and finish my Diet Coke.”

Another short visit with Dad. I always hoped for more. Like I had with my marriage. For four years. Was Dad why I had accepted similar neglect from my husband?

“Tell your mom and Randall hi.” Dad leaned down to kiss me and the aroma of cheap vanilla air freshener washed over me. Truck stops and vanilla-tree air fresheners would always remind me of Dad. And I was afraid that was all I would have of him.

He rushed out the door to his semi parked at the far end of the lot, loaded with mattresses to deliver later tonight. How many more of these last-minute lunches was I going to sit through? How many more was I willing to sit through?

My glass was refilled and I watched out the window as everyone came and went. What else should I do with my day? These were the weekends that made me miss working Saturdays and Sundays. I’d been at the library long enough that I only worked one weekend every six weeks unless I picked up a shift for someone. I would’ve, but no one took time off in the winter. The boys didn’t have a wrestling tournament and I had nothing to do but hunt for apartments.

I moved ice around in my glass with the straw, searching my brain for errands to run. The obvious one was finding a place of my own, but my stomach clenched and my throat grew thick whenever I thought of apartment hunting.

“Katie?”

My head popped up at the familiar voice. My gaze landed on a guy my age. His face had rounded out since our college years, but his blue eyes were as kind as they’d always been and his grin was aimed at me. “Gabriel?”

He laughed and held his arms out. “Been a while, right?”

I rose and wrapped my arms around him. My college sweetheart. We could’ve been more than that, but we hadn’t gotten beyond the sweetheart stage to madly in love.

What would it have been like if we had? Would we have found jobs in the same city? Would I have two kids by now and my own wrestling tournaments to prepare for?

Longing tugged at my heart. When I pictured two kids running around, Aiden was in the background. It was why I’d quit imagining what it would be like to have kids with Aiden.

Gabriel let me go, still grinning. “Small world, eh?”

“What are you doing in town?” I gestured to where Dad had been sitting. “Have a seat.” Gabriel looked around, his gaze curious. I waved off his unspoken question. “I met my dad for lunch but he had to take off.”

He slid into the seat across from me. “How is your dad? How are you?” He chuckled. “First question first. I had a conference in town. I’m heading back to Helena tonight. You live here though? I heard you got married.” His eyes dipped to the hand my wedding ring should’ve been on.

My smile started to die before I caught it. “I did, and I work at the library. Dad is doing well. Caffeinated and chews through audiobooks on his long hauls.”

“That’s great, Katie.” His head bobbed and his eyes once again dipped to my bare wedding ring finger. If it wasn’t too obvious, I’d curl my arm into my stomach and hide it. “Were the rumors true? You married Aiden King?”

“Yes.” I wiggled my hand. Did I commit to a lie? It wasn’t a lie. I was still married. Technically. “I don’t wear the ring. It’s…” Talking to Gabriel had always been easy. He was an enthusiastic rambler like me, but he was also an active participant in the conversation. And he listened. “It made me self-conscious.”

“Ah. The Oil King got you a rock.”

“A boulder.”

He chuckled. “I admit to being disappointed when I heard you were off the market, but I’m happy for you. After you, I came close to marrying once, but I chose my job again.”

“There’s nothing wrong with loving your work.” Unless you use it to stay away from those you love.

The waitress stopped by, digging in her waist pouch for a pen. “Can I get you anything?”

Gabriel lifted his brows at me. “You have to go soon?”

I shook my head. Talking to Gabriel would be the perfect distraction in my day. He ordered a bowl of chili and salad. My Diet Coke was topped off.

“So, you two have kids?” His lips curved into a rueful smile. “Sorry. Small-town nosy. I slip into it when I’m talking to someone I know.”

Resignation spread through me. I was a married woman in my thirties; it wasn’t an uncommon question. Most people who asked were looking for a familiar thread of conversation and grasped at the same questions they’d heard adults around them asking their whole life. I didn’t take it personally, but I avoided the topic as often as I could. Sucked that it came on the heels of my question to myself yesterday. “No kids. You?”

He shook his head. “Maybe someday. I haven’t ruled it out.”

We chatted through his meal and three more refills of my drink. He asked about my family and work. Bisa. Trips I’d taken since I graduated. We laughed over college memories. Gabriel was nothing more than a friend, we had a history together, but the way he knew me was comfortable. Reassuring. Our conversation was back and forth and he didn’t look at his phone.

Would Aiden and I ever reach this point? Gabriel and I were like this even after we’d broken up. Aiden hadn’t called once since I walked out on him.

The chances of our marriage surviving seemed slimmer than ever.

* * *

Aiden

The wintry countryside passedby the window as I drove to Xander’s new place. Brittle brown grass stuck out of the snow. Green spiky bushes and ponderosa trees dotted the hills. Fence lines cut off ranchland from the road, running in clean lines between sections and quarters.

I turned down the long road that led into the driveway of Xander and Savvy’s house. Given that my brother and his wife were millionaires, most people would assume their house was ostentatious, sucking resources down just for the right look. But their house was no different than other new builds around Billings. Savvy had gone with a two-level prefab, recycled-steel-sided home in brick red with locally sourced rock accents—she and Xander had roamed their land, digging their own boulders out of the dirt.

Most of the interior was finished, and the two world travelers wanted to spend the winter in their home. Xander had left much of the basement unfinished to give himself something to do while Savvy ran her consulting business.

I parked by the garage doors. The door in front of me opened, and Xander waved from the steps that led to the door to the house.

I got out and tipped my head at Savvy’s hybrid car. “How’s that handle in the snow?”

Xander chuckled. “She’s determined to prove that it has enough power to survive out here, but I’ll keep my four-wheel drive just in case.”

I followed him inside. A brand-new house, yet it welcomed a person better than the one I’d lived in for years. Warmth surrounded me and the soft smells of lavender and vanilla laced the air. The walls, though, they weren’t much different than mine. The photographs that hung all over the house were Xander’s own work. Pictures of the mountain he’d camped in outside Kosovo, brilliant blue water in Sri Lanka, sweeping fields in the Philippines, it all made the place uniquely theirs.

When Kate had moved in, she’d added to my sparse decor. Mama’s photos were displayed, some of Xander’s, and a few from amateur photographers in the area. The landscapes lining the walls of my house weren’t much different than Xander’s, but the atmosphere in each house was worlds apart. I couldn’t put my finger on why.

“I’m going to get those pretty jeans of yours dirty,” Xander said as he led me to the basement.

“You mean when I show you how the hard work is really done?” The joke came easy. Xander and I hadn’t hung out much since I’d left home. He’d avoided the family, only coming home for weddings and the occasional spring cattle work, sometimes the fall. He and Savvy had moved to Billings, but this was the first time he’d been around for any length of time.

I had an inbox full of work, but when he’d messaged asking if I could help this weekend, I’d traded a long day working for some brother time. I could work tonight.

“Want a beer?” Xander’s voice echoed throughout the open basement. Windows let in what light the thick clouds allowed through. Small plastic domes lined tables. Each of them had something green growing inside.

Xander pointed to them. “If you get hungry, pick a lettuce.”

“No kidding?” I wandered over. My boots thumped over the gray flooring. Linoleum. I couldn’t believe Savvy would use a material that people remodeled to get out of their homes, but she’d rattled off details about linseed oil, ease of manufacturing, and using it as fuel when it was no longer useful.

Xander turned into a nice-sized square room. “This is going to be my office. I wanted to finish it with my bare hands.” He gave me a sheepish smile. “I thought that being surrounded by my own creative work would get the juices going on below-zero days.”

I lifted a brow.

His lips twitched. “Shut up. Dick.” He went to a stack of rectangular planks. “Cork flooring. It should be easy enough to install.”

Between the two of us, we knocked out the floor in a few hours. Days like this made me hate the office, days when I could move and feel alive instead of like a mountain of paperwork would suffocate me. I lived for going to King’s Creek and helping Dawson. A few times a year wasn’t enough.

Xander grabbed a couple of beers from the downstairs fridge and we sprawled on the floor of his office.

“Gonna stay and help me with the trim?” he asked.

“Is it stained already?”

His grin was unrepentant. He had more work than just the flooring that he wanted my help with. “About that. There’s space in the garage to stain it. Just like the floor, it won’t take long with both of us.”

I took a long drink.

“Unless you have to go back to work.” He sounded resigned.

“There’s always work.” I didn’t say I had to go. I didn’t want to go back to the office, or to my quiet house. My stress headache was returning.

“Tell me to butt the hell out—because I know how Grams is—but why won’t she let you hire on?”

Grams earned a lot of the blame we put on her, but she wasn’t the sole backer of this decision. Not for the VP of finance. The other positions were just her thinking small, thinking it was like the old days when companies backstabbed each other instead of collaborating. She thought more higher-ups meant more opportunities for subterfuge.

“Money. Trust. Loss of control. It’s Grams; take your pick,” I answered.

He set his beer down. “All right, then. How’s Kate?”

I clenched my jaw. I’d rather talk about the company even after I’d just been thinking how nice it was to ignore it for a bit. “Fine. Living with her parents.”

“Are you two…”

“For a guy who left home and made himself unreachable for over ten years to avoid talking about his life, you’re really damn nosy.”

“Maybe I learned that avoiding the issue made everything worse and cost me a lot of years with people I usually like to hang around when they’re not being touchy assholes.”

Touchy asshole. Astute description. “I asked her for time.”

“You don’t want to divorce?”

I glared at him. First Dad. Now Xander. “No. Why would I?”

“None of us really knew if you married for the trust or not.”

“None of you?”

His gaze was steady. I ground my teeth together and stared at the off-white wall across from me. Dad and my brothers didn’t think I’d married my wife because I loved her, and I hadn’t thought I needed to justify myself. Maybe a little part of me thought my actions should speak for themselves, like they had with the rest of my life. And…they had.

“I love her,” I finally said. “That’s why I married her. It’s as simple as that.” Simple, but impossibly complicated.

His gaze bored into me for a few moments before he said, “Did she give you time?”

I thought back to that night I’d bared a part of me to Kate in her old bedroom. “Yes.”

“So what are you doing with it?”

I scrubbed my face with my hands. “I fucked it up.” We had talked. We’d taken a trip together. Then I’d done what I always had and she’d left. “How am I supposed to change when I don’t know what else I can do?”

“Have you talked to Dad?”

“Nope.”

“Dawson? Beck?”

I shook my head.

“Anyone?”

I meant to be sarcastic, but I couldn’t summon the energy. “Think that’s my problem?”

Xander snorted. I shot him a dirty look, but his expression turned somber. “Maybe that’s where you need to start.”

“I tried.”

“You gotta keep doing it. I also wouldn’t waste that time she gave you. I saw her with another guy.”

Fury spread through my body like a brush fire, only to be cooled by despair an instant later. Another guy? She wouldn’t move on that quickly.

Would she? “Maybe it was a coworker.”

“It was the truck stop with the restaurant.”

The relief was so instant, I almost put my hand on my heart to make sure it resumed beating. “She meets her dad there.”

“Does her dad look like he’s our age?”

Damn. Her dad was older than ours. She wouldn’t be that far from the library for lunch with a coworker.

Xander interpreted my silence as a no. “I was filling up and she was by the window, and I don’t know, man. She was different.”

“How so?” I couldn’t brace myself against what he had to say. It was like my bruised pride opened up for the beating.

“She was laughing and talking and gesturing with her hands. She’s so reserved around us, like she wants to engage more than she does. Do we intimidate her?”

“No. I do.” I drained my beer. Had she moved on? Did I think we had more time while she was living the life she’d been missing out on? Like lunch in the middle of the day, at a place where she could get the greasy diner burgers and crispy fries she loved. When was the last time I’d met her for lunch?

Xander rose in one swift move. “Well, she’s not here, but I am. Practice talking to me. Removing the stick from your ass is going to be hard, but I’ve got some ideas.”

But doing something with my hands was better than listening to the litany of my own faults I could recite in my sleep.

As I went up the stairs and through his house to the garage, my gaze caught on a picture of Savvy laughing in a meadow, her arms spread wide and her hair streaming behind her. Beside it was another casual photo of both Savvy and Xander in front of a small cabin. Several more photos of them with their friends surrounded it.

That was it. The difference between his decor and mine.

Other than a wedding photo over our mantel, there were no other pictures of me and my wife.