“No. That one isThe Idea of You.” She sighs.
“I haven’t heard of that one. Is it super funny?”
“It’s not funny at all.”
“Then how can it be your feel-good movie?” I smirk. “Do I need to explain the rules, Kenna?”
She smiles briefly before her face relaxes back into an easy gaze. “I don’t know. It just…” She swallows. “It just gives you hope that maybe the perfect person is out there, even if you meet them at the wrong time.”
My heart swells and shatters all in the span of one moment. Because no way is she talking about the movie now. She’s talking about us. We’re each other’s perfect person.
I scoot closer. “If you ask me, I don’t think there’s ever a wrong time. I mean, maybe if you’re both married.” I scrunch my brows. “Or if one of you is on death row.”
She giggles, andfuck, the sound lights up my whole goddamn world. “That would put a damper on things.”
“Good thing neither of us falls into one of those categories then.” When she averts her eyes guiltily, I add, “Do we? Kenna, are you still married?”
“No. No. Of course not. I told you last week I was divorced, and I meant it.”
I put a finger under her chin and guide her head back to me. “Then what is it?”
“It’s pretty much why my dad called. My ex reached out to him and told him about the divorce.”
“Wait. Your dad didn’t know?”
She averts her eyes again. “I’d already disappointed him in so many ways. He’s a man of God, Carter. He doesn’t believe in divorce.”
“But even he must understand some marriages are irretrievably broken.”
“I guess. But he’s upset we never went to counseling.”
“Do you think it would have helped?”
“Cyrus didn’t need counseling. He needed a twelve-step program or whatever.”
Ah, shit. “Drugs or alcohol?”
“Neither. Well, he did drink every day, but I’m not sure he was an alcoholic per se. It was gambling. I had no idea he’d gotten into so much debt until his bookie told me.”
Something clicks in my brain. “Jesus, Kenna. Did the bookie come after you? Is that it?”
“No.”
She doesn’t elaborate. Once again, she’s shutting the door on that particular line of questioning. So I go back to the previous conversation.
“Why do you think it was important that Cyrus told your dad?”
“I think it was a warning.”
My eyes widen. “A warning about what?”
“He’s bitter. Threatened to out my less-than-savory past to my father.” An arm covers her face. “I regret telling him about it. But I trusted him.” Her head shakes. “I was so stupid.”
I remove her arm from across her eyes. “You weren’t stupid, Kenna. You were in love. Listen, why not beat your ex to the punch? Don’t give him the satisfaction. You already have a strained relationship with your father, what could it hurt to tell him in your own words?”
“It’s not just about telling my father. Cyrus has threatened to do it publicly. To humiliate my dad in front of his entire congregation.”
“Aw, damn. Is that why you left New York? To protect your dad?”
