Free Home To You by Robin Kaye Page B

was hiking, it occurred to me that I might have been able to solve the problems David and I had, but I was too dense to see that they even existed.”
    Her back was to him, her posture straight and tense. He stood close to her and took the knife-wielding hand by the wrist.
    She dropped the knife on the cutting board, obviouslystunned. Good—she needed to hear him. God, if he could do one thing, he’d find this David asshole and beat him to a bloody pulp for hurting Kendall the way he had.
    She turned around so they were chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and as she looked up at him, anger shot from her dark charcoal gray, sometimes black, eyes. But this anger looked as if it was aimed at herself. “I ignored the problems; I allowed them to fester. I knew better than to do that. I’m a freakin’ marriage and family therapist, for cripes’ sake. What does that say about me?”
    “Only that you need to work on your mind-reading skills.”
    She shot him a quelling look tinged with the possibility of physical retaliation, but he ignored it.
    “Hey, I’m a guy. I know how hard it is to talk about relationship problems when the conversation is forced on you. It’s harder still to initiate it. Kendall, I can almost guarantee you that the problems that existed were David’s. From what little I know of the man, he doesn’t strike me as the least bit courageous.” And that was being kind. “If you’d been aware of the problems, I’m sure you would have dealt with them immediately. I might not know you well, but I can tell you’re not one to let things lie.”
    Her brows arched at that.
    “Am I wrong?”
    “No.” She let out a defeated breath and returned to chopping. “But I knew something wasn’t right—”
    “And now you’re kicking yourself for not forcing it out of him?”
    “Something like that.”
    “I see.” And he did. He was sure trying to get thedickhead to fess up to whatever was wrong wouldn’t have done her any good. But with Kendall, it was the lack of effort that bothered her. “Can I help?”
    Without a word, she handed him a few carrots and a peeler. He started on the peeling—one of the very few things he knew how to do in a kitchen. He stopped midswipe. “You know, I’m willing to bet if you had forced the issue, Dave would have acted like the coward he is and avoided all confrontation. He doesn’t like drama, right?”
    She nodded.
    “Kendall, a man isn’t offered a transfer across country and expected to leave the next day. It takes a few months, at the very least, which means Dave made his decision a long time ago. He was biding his time. He wasn’t about to bring up the fact that he was unhappy or had problems with the relationship because he’d never planned to fix it. If you had known that or figured out his plan, you would have ended the relationship.” He resumed peeling. “Ending the relationship before his transfer came through would have been terribly inconvenient for good ole Dave. By not saying a word, he was able to choose the end date. He could run away and entirely avoid the messiness that comes with ending a long-term relationship. It would have worked too, if you hadn’t had the bad luck to lose your job. Like I said, the man is a coward.”
    Kendall blew out a frustrated breath and slammed another onion on the cutting board before cutting the end off with one swift slash of the knife. “I know he’s a coward. I get it. But, Jack, there were two people in that relationship. . . . It’s never only one person’s fault. I have to accept at least some of the blame. I want to make sure I know what I did wrong so I won’t repeat my mistakes.”
    He reached into the overhead cabinet and took out a couple of plates and then rooted around in the silverware drawer to get the utensils. He figured he might as well set the table, since she was doing all the heavy lifting cooking-wise. “Okay, I can see that. I’ll give you leave to take the blame for not recognizing a