Free Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4) by Cat Porter Page B

laughed. “I’m listening.”
    “However—”
    “Yeah?”
    “To be touched with intent. To be looked at. Really looked at it. For a man to see me, truly see me . That recognition, acknowledgment, that appreciation. That’s what I want. Where is that? Where did that go?”
    “We let it go.”
    My lungs squeezed in my chest. He knew.
    “Over the years, I’d learned to steel myself against Kyle’s gruff manner, his flip way of talking to me, even the way he looked at me, which was not really looking at me. Put that in your man brain, by the way, because that truly sucks—when the person you’re supposed to be closest to doesn’t really see you anymore when he looks at you.”
    Butler took in a quick breath. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.”
    I rolled my napkin into a ball. “After years of that, I don’t think I’d know what the good stuff feels like anymore—if I ever do get to feel it again, that is.” I let out a dry laugh. “Jesus, if I did feel it, I’d probably combust or just cry.”
    His brows drew together.
    I snorted rather inelegantly. “There’s a word without much intent.”
    “What word?”
    “ Just . When I lived in Chicago, after I’d left Meager, I took acting classes.”
    “Acting? Really?”
    “It was fun. Anyway, my teacher once said that you couldn’t play a negative. My character doesn’t want , or, She doesn’t need , or, I’m not this or that . You can only play a positive and a specific action through and through. That’s what’s clear, active, powerful. The I want, I need. ”
    Butler nodded. “Makes sense.”
    “He also said, you can’t play the word just .”
    “Just?”
    “Think about it. What is that? Does it carry any significance in a sentence?”
    “It can, but for the most part, it’s a nothing word.”
    “Right. It’s like a useless extra pillow on your sofa. Does it make things easier to express, to hear, to swallow?”
    His lips curled. “We’d like to think so.”
    “Don’t we though? What a great filler word to soften the blow. But there is no just anything. Things either are , or they are not .”
    He grinned. “True.”
    “My marriage was being played on a negative and being excused with a just. Over and over again.”
    He slanted his head. “The sex must have been good then.”
    My face heated.
    “Did I embarrass you?” he asked.
    “Not for the reason you think.”
    Butler brought his head closer to mine. “What I meant was, if you two stuck it out so long even though things got mediocre, the sex was probably good. Right?”
    “No.”
    “No what? The sex wasn’t good?”
    “No. There wasn’t much sex the last few years.”
    “What?”
    I sank in my seat. “Please don’t make me repeat it. I’ve never told anyone.”
    “How could there not be—”
    “Drop it, please.”
    “Hold on. First off, why haven’t you told anyone, like your best girlfriend?”
    “Because it’s humiliating. And I’m sure Grace has never had that problem.”
    “You can’t be sure about that. We all go through shit times.”
    “I just felt that—”
    “You just felt?”
    I chewed on my wobbly lower lip. “I felt that, if I told her, it would make that epic fail real.”
    “It is real, Tania,” he said, his voice gentle.
    “I know, but I didn’t want to admit it to anyone or deal with how bad it felt,” I breathed. My lip quivered, and I bit down hard on it, blinking away the water gathering in my eyes.
    Don’t be even more pathetic. Don’t cry now. Not in front of Butler.
    “Hey.” His legs trapped one of mine under the table and squeezed.
    I swallowed past the messy goop of embarrassment and emotions and met his gaze.
    “You don’t have to feel embarrassed with me. Trust me on that. I’m sure Grace has told you plenty of shit about how things were last year, and it’s all fucking true.”
    “She hasn’t. She can be a real lady when she wants to protect the people she cares about.”
    “This? What you’re feeling?