“I know, don’t panic! I’ll put in new tile. You just need to pick which one you like.” He points to the sample tiles next to the kitchen cabinets.
I don’t respond. I grind my teeth together and ball my hands into fists.
My floor isgone.
The whole kitchen—floorless. The ugly, mint green, cracked tiles have been completely torn out. There are pieces of tile and grout dust swept into piles. The fridge is moved into the corner.
“What is wrong with you?” I shout at him, snapping out of my shocked state.
Trey paces the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I don’t sit still well, and you mentioned how much you hated it and wished you could redo it. I had only planned to pop one tile out so we could set samples down and you could pick, but then the tile next to it cracked, so I took that one out and the one next to it was already cracked, so I took it out and things spiraled out of control,” he rushes out in one breath, sounding slightly afraid of me.
Good.
“If you don’t sit still well, go for a fucking walk—don’t destroy my kitchen! Are you insane?” I walk into the space, assessing the damage. “I can’t afford this,” I whisper to myself.
“I’ll pay for everything. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to tear it all out before talking to you.” He sounds sorry. Hell, he looks like a dog someone has beaten. A very cute dog.
I take a breath, leaning against the counter, looking at the tile samples opposite me. He was trying to do something nice for me, I can see that. He went about it in the most unhinged way, but he’s well-intentioned. My conversation with Gran, the text from my father, and now this have pushed me over the edge. And letting him pay for it makes me uncomfortable, but I truly can’t afford it. He got us into this mess, so I guess I’ll let him get us out.
After a long minute passes, he steps in front of me, drawing my attention back to him. “Please don’t kick me out,” he pleads.
I stare into his eyes, the same eyes that haunt my dreams. I love his eyes. Shoving off the counter, I step past him and point. “That one.”
He turns, eyes following my finger to the tile. “Okay, that one it is. Sorry again, Jessie.”
“Just . . . fix it. Please.”
“I will, I promise. And Jessie?”
“What?”
“I really like Dot. Can I still go over and help her?” he quietly asks.
I sigh. “If it keeps you from tearing my house apart,” is all I manage to say before disappearing to hide in my bedroom. I need to calm down.
I was hard on him. I did say I hated that tile and wanted to replace it, but damn it, he caught me off guard. I’ve never had anyone help me. Not like this. I’ve never let anyone close enough. I should apologize for yelling, but I don’t.
I’ll buy more cherry tomatoes next time I’m at the farmers’ market.
Chapter 8
Jessie
Itext Kacey a picture of my naked kitchen floor.
Kacey
Cool. I hated that tile.
Jessie
Not the point. I came home to a floorless kitchen... a naked kitchen floor if you will. Your and Knox’s child is unmanageable.
Kacey
Don’t look at me, I didn’t raise him. Come to the ranch today. I’ll send Knox in to help him.
Jessie
