The Rain Belongs to Me

Hannah's POV

When I went back into the bedroom, Kenneth Ford was still fast asleep.

A moment later, he waved his hand and murmured, "Berta, knock it off..."

Berta Neal was that girl's name. She was his new assistant.

They shouldn't have been close enough for her name to come so naturally to him, especially not in his sleep.

I stood there for a while, staring at him before finally grabbing my pillow and going to the guest room. I sat on the edge of the bed in the dark, too numb to think.

At five the next morning, the door flew open.

"Hannah, did yesterday's rain fry your brain?" Kenneth snapped. "What the hell did you say to Berta?"

The bedroom light blazed on, and I winced at the sudden glare.

"Did I say something wrong?" I said, my voice rough with sleep.

"I was late yesterday," he sulked. "That was my fault, but I already apologized..."

"Kenneth!" I cut him off. "How many times have you walked her home under that umbrella for it to become a habit? And how close are you two that you're muttering her name in your sleep?"

He fell silent, dumbfounded.

One second, he was coming at me full force; the next second, he had nothing to say.

After a few seconds, he cleared his throat, his voice tinged with guilt.

"She just started working here. I'm training her, so what's wrong with looking out for her? I give her a lot of work, so I'm used to saying her name. I happened to call it once in my sleep. Do you have to turn it into something?"

There it came again—the same excuse.

I wanted to ask him how many other things he and Berta had gotten used to doing together. How many little habits could two people have before they stopped looking like coworkers and started looking like a couple?

But in the end, I simply turned over and closed my eyes.

"Fine. Dream about whoever you want from now on," I said quietly. "Say their name as often as you like."

"Hannah!" His voice shot through the room, his gaze heavy with accusation. "Can you stop being so sensitive? Your mother's been dead for a year, and somehow, you've inherited every bit of her craziness."

My eyes flew open, and I turned to look at him. For a moment, I barely recognized the man standing in front of me.

Kenneth and I had known each other since we were kids. Our families lived right across the street from each other.

When my mother finally lost control and stabbed my father to death, it was Kenneth's family who stepped in and took care of everything.

After my mother was committed to a psychiatric hospital, I practically became part of the Ford family. His mother always made sure I had everything that Kenneth had.

A few years later, my mother slit her wrist and took her own life.

Kenneth helped me handle the funeral arrangements. He bowed to the tombstone and promised to take care of me for the rest of his life.

When one had grown up without much love, they tended to cling to affection and promises. I was no exception.

For ten years, we had lived together like husband and wife. We shared a home, shared a bed, and shared a life. Yet till now, I was still waiting for the one thing that would make it official.

That engagement ring never came.

Instead, I got to watch him hold an umbrella over another woman and hear her name on his lips while he slept.

When I had followed Kenneth to Lanorbridge, my best friend had tried to warn me. "Men get tired of long-term relationships. Just keep your guard up."

I had laughed it off, not believing Kenneth would be like that.

In my mind, he was special. But now, standing in the dark, he was barking at me because of another woman.

I realized that he wasn't different from any other man.

Not at all.