Home To You by Robin Kaye

narcissist when you saw one.” He looked up from the plates he put on the table. “You were a kid when you and David got together. What did you know about narcissistic tendencies then?”
    “Nothing, but I know all about them now, and all the psychology courses I aced didn’t help me recognize it in David. Some therapist I am.”
    He took the three quick strides back to the kitchen and stood too close to Kendall, to make sure he had her attention. “Do you know that saying ‘A lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client’?”
    “Yes.” She rummaged through the pantry and pulled down a box of chicken broth and one of rice, measured both, and set the broth to boil.
    “I would imagine it’s the same for doctors and therapists. You can’t treat yourself or people you love because of your lack of distance—you can’t be dispassionate and see things without emotion. So, no, this has nothing to do with your profession. It doesn’t make you any less of a therapist.”
    “Really?”
    “Do you have more carrots?”
    “Sure.” She passed him the bag.
    He took a bite of one he’d already peeled and then offered it to her in turn.
    She bit off a piece and chewed thoughtfully, as if she were deciding whether or not to say more.
    “I’m just beginning to realize how much of myidentity I gave up being part of a couple. I think it was a gradual thing. But, then, I don’t know—I can’t remember a time I didn’t think of what was best for us and put that above what I might have thought was best for me.”
    “There’s a fine line between compromise and giving in, isn’t there?” He watched as she tossed salt and butter into the boiling broth and added the rice.
    “Now that I’m looking at it with a critical eye, I see that what was best for us was synonymous with what was best for David. I was trying to be a team player and ended up being a doormat without ever realizing it. I had no idea. How could I be that blind?”
    Kendall turned her attention to a thin steak she pulled out of the refrigerator. She rubbed something on it and sliced it and a weird-looking root. In a measuring cup she mixed together soy sauce and a few other things he didn’t recognize; then she left the meat and all the vegetables in their own bowls.
    She gave the rice a stir and looked at the timer she’d set. “You know, I’ve always seen myself as so strong and independent, and now I’m wondering if I haven’t been lying to myself all along.” She turned and lit the stove beneath a huge cast-iron skillet and, wrinkling her nose, slid him a sidelong glance. “My wok is better, but this will do in a pinch.”
    Jax watched her for a moment and then leaned against the counter. “Kendall, there’s something to be said for reflecting on failures and successes. But, then, nothing good can come of it if you’re too busy beating yourself up to see the good in what you’ve accomplished.”
    “I suppose you’re right.” She left the pan on the heat and turned, giving him her full attention. “And, for your information, I didn’t beat myself up—I just had a hardtime envisioning a future without David. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before—well, not since before I packed away my Barbie and Ken dolls, anyway. But even on that front I’ve made some headway—it just didn’t come easily.”
    “The best things don’t.”
    Kendall poured oil into the hot pan. He watched the oil spread and shimmer in the overhead light. “I’ve been waiting for three years to do what I really wanted to do: move home. You see, David had this list of goals we had to achieve before we married and returned to Harmony.”
    Jax took a sip of his beer to keep from calling the guy a controlling prick.
    Kendall threw the onions, peppers, and carrots into the pan and tossed them around. “Today on my hike I realized that I’m free to do what I want to do. I don’t have to follow David’s list anymore. I don’t have to live in Boston. I