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your issue, Kaley.”
    The heat on my cheeks grows more intense. He goes to the dresser for his keys and wallet.
    “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
    His eyes lock on mine, direct and unwavering. “Every problem we had before comes from you having difficulty trusting. Even Graham Carson.”
    Oh shit, not now. Not that part of our history when I’m not prepared or expecting it.
    I bite my lower lip and struggle for words. “That was a mistake caused by too much alcohol and too much fighting. It was never about trust or not loving you.”
    The pleasant lines of his face relax into an expression of patience. “I know it wasn’t about not loving me, but it was about lack of trust. You don’t trust me. You don’t trust anyone completely. You need to control everything because you don’t trust.”
    My entire body grows cold. This observation is something Bobby has never said to me before and I don’t know how to handle it, let alone analyze it to figure out why he’d say that to me now.
    I turn my face so I’m no longer looking at him directly. I feel a displacement of air and I know he’s moving toward me. He crouches down in front of me, his hands on my thigh, the heat of his gaze hitting my face and making me look back to him.
    His hands lift and his fingers spread on my jaw, lightly caressing them.
    “I understand, Kaley,” he whispers. “I’ve always known what the real issue between us is. It’s not me. And it isn’t you, not the inner you, the you I love.  Your dad did a terrible thing not being there for you as a child or wanting to know the truth that you were his daughter. But that’s your parents’ shit and they’re happy and married. You’ve come to terms with your dad, now let what your dad did stop hurting you and stop hurting me. I love you. Trust that and we’ll be OK.”
    A light trickle of tears spill down my cheeks and I brush at them furiously. How did we fall so quickly from the glorious heights of loving each other into this: my messed up childhood and our bits of unhappy history.
    I want nothing more than to sink into his chest and have him hold me. For some reason, I can’t make myself do it.
    We sit together like this, neither of us saying anything, for a couple of moments and then Bobby eases back.
    “So that’s it? You’re leaving?” I ask.
    He smiles, a sort of tender and tolerant twisting of lips, and continues toward the door.
    “I love you. I’ll be back in a few hours. Sleep. I want you here. You are the only girl I want or ever will want.”
    I make a face. “I’d have an easier time believing that if you weren’t leaving.”
    He shakes his head and chuckles. At the door, he stops to wink. “If you don’t believe it after last night, there isn’t anything that’s going to convince you.”
     

 
     
    FIVE
     
    Hunger drags me from sleep and I wake alone. The most perfect night of my life ended with me alone in Bobby’s bed and waking up without him. I don’t even know why he left me.
    I climb from the blankets and get my phone from my purse. I power it on. Shit, the screen fills with notifications. A half dozen from work, four missed calls and messages, but nothing from Bobby. Not a call or a text.
    Now I’m not just hungry, I’m pissed and feeling wretchedly suspicious again. I don’t want to be jealous. I don’t want bad thoughts, but hell what do I really know about how Bobby spent the last two years. There could be someone else, maybe not serious, but maybe not over either.
    He’s too cute a guy, too wonderful and hot, not to have some girl somewhere interested in him. He also has a more than healthy appetite for sex. Sex was never one of our issues. He couldn’t have passed his nights alone here with the dogs living like a monk. No matter how much the thought of that pleases me, I don’t really wish for that to have been and I’m not really angry if it wasn’t.
    Maybe I’m just irritated because I can’t stand not knowing the details