Читать книгу Not Even Past - Dave White - Страница 8

“WHAT’S WRONG?” Kate put the box of invitations on the coffee table.

Donne blinked. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

She smiled. It was the same smile she gave him the first time he opened a car door for her. The time he brought her roses at work. Each time, she’d smile the smile she was giving now and call him “the gentleman.” And then remind him it was the twenty-first century.

“Well.” She tilted her head. “I’m here. Let’s get stuffing.”

Kate waited for him just for a moment, as if she expected him to take the initiative. He didn’t move. It felt like he was stuck to his computer chair, as if the seat had iced over and caught his body with it. When he didn’t move, she pulled the first envelope.

“Got to do my mother first, right? She’d probably be offended otherwise.” She took an invitation, glanced over it, and then slid it into the pink envelope.

If this had been a normal moment, Donne would have laughed and asked why her mother even needed an invite. She was paying for most of the damn thing. They would have laughed, and Kate would have reminded him about tradition.

Not today.

“Kate, I—” He turned and looked at his computer. The web browser was still open to the blank video. He clicked it closed. “I have to study. I haven’t even started yet.”

She licked the glue of the envelope and sealed it. Put it on the coffee table next to the box. Donne leaned back in his chair and watched her stand up and walk toward him. Slowly, like the first night they made love. The smile changed now. No longer confused. Confident.

She put her hands on the arms of his chair and leaned in close. Her hair smelled like apple shampoo.

“You said you were going to get up early and work.”

“When did I say that?”

“When don’t you say that?”

She leaned in closer and her lips parted slightly. “You work too hard.”

“If I don’t, I won’t be finished with this.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Before their lips could meet, Donne flashed on to Jeanne. Tied up in that chair. Her eyes wide. Screaming behind duct tape.

He tilted his head out of the way of Kate and stood up. She stepped back and brushed hair in front of her face, as if she was trying to hide it.

“What is wrong with you?” Her voice was the edge of glass.

“I told you, I have to study.”

She shook her head. “That’s not it.”

He stood up, feeling ice form in his chest. Someone must have turned the thermostat down when Donne wasn’t looking.

Jeanne—no, Kate—had her arms folded in front of her. Donne stepped in close to her, put his hands on her elbows. Squeezed gently.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m stressed. There’s a lot to be done. Finals. The wedding. We have a lot to do. You surprised me.”

“But you …” Kate shook her head. “You’ve been doing this a lot lately.”

Donne closed his eyes and took in a long breath. He kissed her on the cheek. “I don’t mean to.”

He wanted to explain, tell her about Jeanne. Tell her about the video. Tell her about the blood on his hands. All the blood. He should have done that a year ago. But it never felt like the right time. It still didn’t.

“Then why do you do it?”

“Did you take today off?” he asked.

“I have a meeting later this afternoon. Last-minute preparation for court. Took the morning off, thought we could stuff some envelopes and then get lunch.”

That sounded good. It sounded like exactly what he needed. But the walls felt like they were closing in on him. His mouth was dry and his throat was tight. He needed to go do something, anything, to try to find out what that video was about.

“I really need to study. Get this over with. What time is your meeting over?”

Kate pursed her lips. “I’m done at four.”

“In that case, I’ll be done at four,” he said. “I’ll pick you up and we can go to Silvio’s and get a real meal. Then I’m good for some beer and all the envelope stuffing you want to do.”

The glint returned to her eyes. She didn’t smile. Didn’t unfold her arms.

“Okay.”

Donne dropped his hands to his sides. “I really need to study. Why don’t you stay here? I’ll go down to the library and get some work done. Hard to procrastinate there.”

“If you end up at the Olde Towne—”

Donne laughed. “That’s the last place I’ll be.”

“I was just going to say ‘call me.’”

They didn’t say anything for a moment. The silence hung in the air like gnats on a summer night. They stared at each other, Donne waiting for Kate to move first. Either toward the couch or the door.

She didn’t.

He gave in. After kissing her on the cheek again, he went toward the door. Pulled it open and stepped out into the hall. The door swung shut behind him. The hall smelled of wet pizza boxes. He took two steps but stopped when Kate opened his door again.

“Jackson,” she said.

He turned and waited. The ice in his chest got colder.

“You forgot your books.”

The knot in his stomach eased, and he went back to gather his things. There wasn’t much. Two textbooks, a binder, and a pen. He shoved them into his bag, zipped it closed, and headed back toward the door.

“I love you,” he heard Kate say.

He pulled the door shut and kept going.