Chapter 25

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Olivia's pov:

I can hear Kent moving around the dark room.
Then he turns on a lamp in the corner of the room.

"Olivia."
He clenches his mouth closed after he utters my name, apparently needing a minute to rein in his temper
"You are not allowed to come to the basement. I clear about this."

I give him a fake little pout, seeing how far I can push it.

"Kent, I'm part of the family, right? That gives me the right to be anywhere in the house."
I turn my attention back to the wedding album I was flicking through.
"For instance, I had no idea you'd consent to get married in just a linen shirt - no suit coat even - very bohemian of you."

Kent takes two steps forward and snatching the photo album out of my hands, glaring at me. Then he glances down at it, as if surprised.

"I haven't looked at this in.... years...."

I consider him, glad to have a moment to study his tall, muscular form while he's not glaring at me.

His face is lined with years of worry - perhaps more worry than most men his age.
He carries a lot, you know, but.... well, you wonder if he carries more than he needs to.

For instance, did he really need to come down here to yell at me for looking through photo albums? What harm, really, was I doing?

And what joy does Kent really have to balance out all of the worry, the constant need for control, that consumes his time?

The worry and need for control that, indeed, results in his panic attacks.

My eyes flick back to photo album, wondering if there is perhaps an answer there.

I need to find out more about Kent.

"Have you...... have you ever truly loved a woman, Kent?"
I blush slightly, when you hear yourself ask it.

Kent raises his eyes suddenly, that glare focused on me again.
He moves his eyes to the photo of his deceased wife. He caressed her face with his finger before answering me.

"I.... I did love my wife."
His voice reflects his lack of conviction.
It's like he doesn't believe his own words. I narrow my eyes at him.
"At least I think I did."

He tosses the album back onto the shelf as if it doesn't matter to him but I can see the pain in his face.

"Maybe I didn't love her way she deserves, but she gave me my son. That's why she will always be someone special to me."

I lean against the wall, still studying him, feeling as if I have just figured out a little piece of the Kent puzzle.

I smiled a little, pleased.

"And haven't you loved another woman?"

For some reason, his gaze is drawn to me. In the brightness of his eyes, you can see the fire, the lust.....

"I have been with many women, Olivia.... And, until recently, I never imagined I could experience certain feelings."

Is he - is he talking about me?
Does he feel things for me?

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