Page 57 of Not You Again
“That’s not true,” I blurt without thinking.
“It’s how he feels, Andie.”
I give Dr. Shaw a warning glance before returning my attention to Kit. “I really enjoy spending time with you.”
Kit huffs out a disbelieving laugh.
“I do,” I insist. His stance is too comfortable. Smug. I snatch the ax out from under him, causing him to stumble.
“You put up this wall.” He grabs another ax and winds up for a toss. “And it makes me feel like I have to put a wall up too, because you don’t want anything to do with how I feel about you.”
He heaves the ax at the target and hits the bullseye. My mouth goes dry, and my tongue is heavy. I have no idea what to say.
“How do you feel about her, Kit?”
“I feel …” He takes a deep breath, taking the time to meet my eyes. “I really enjoy spending time with you too. You make me happy, Andie. And I want you to know that I’m here with you. You can rely on me.”
“I—” I bite back my words, afraid to say them out loud. I reach for an ax, hoping I won’t have to reply to that.
“You can say what you’re thinking, Andie. This is a safe space.” Dr. Shaw spreads her hands in a gesture that says we’re all friends here. Except we aren’t. This is all being filmed and will be picked apart by audiences across the country.
“Ten years ago, you wanted nothing to do with how I felt.” I grunt as I release the ax. It hits the target with a satisfying thunk. Staring at the handle jutting from the wall, I tell him, “You told me that if I wanted you, all I had to do was ask. So I did.”
“You did.” He nods, a half grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“But then you left.” I force myself to look him in the eyes. Dare to let him see how much it hurt to watch him walk away. It’s easily the bravest thing I’ve done this week. “In the middle of our conversation, you left.”
“One of my bosses called, and I—” He takes in a sharp breath and grips an ax. He doesn’t turn away fast enough, though. It’s the first time I’ve seen this side of him since we got married. Vulnerable. Scared. Even when we were talking about his mom’s cancer diagnosis, he wasn’t like this.
“I want to be able to trust you. To rely on you.” I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth. “But that doesn’t happen overnight.” And once he has that trust, he can break it in a heartbeat. I know that all too well.
Kit is silent, frowning and focused on his throw. He stares at the target too.
“Andie,” Dr. Shaw interjects, “what do you need from Kit moving forward?”
I heft an ax over my shoulder. “Keep showing up. Please.”
In our periphery, Cassidy smiles, her hand reaching for Steve’s. But he’s balancing a camera on his shoulder, so she settles for hooking her hand around his biceps and leaning into him.
Kit waits until I release the ax from my grip before he says, “I can do that.”
“Kit, what do you need from Andie?”
He takes his time lining up for his throw. When the ax hits its mark, he finally says, “I don’t care if you’re upset with me or having a bad day. Talk to me. Let me in.”
He turns to meet my eyes, and I dip my chin in a nod. Letting people in has never been my strong suit, but I know I’ll look like the villain if I point that out now.
“Good.” Dr. Shaw offers a smile, clapping her hands together. “This is good work, you two.”
She stands, signaling that this session is officially over.
“You have the targets for another thirty minutes,” Cassidy informs us.
Kit smiles, offering me an ax. “What do you say, sweet potato?”
I grip the handle and can’t help but smile back. “I’ve got time.”
His smile grows wider.