More secrecy, more games on who will ask the right questions to get the correct answers. I’m so tired of pulling and begging only to get half answers and partial truths. I’m exhausted from being the one who tries to keep this friendship afloat. A person can only give so much of themselves repeatedly with nothing offered in return before they burn out.
“Is this how we’re playing it now, Ballard? I have to come out and demand an answer before I’m on the receiving end of honesty? Okay, fine. Let’s do it your way.” I lean forward, my face inches from his. “Were you or were you not the Veil who restrained me and so helpfully poured the blocker remover down my throat?” I all but hiss, blinking hard to keep my emotions in check.
He can have my anger, but he doesn’t deserve my despair. That’s meant just for me.
He rubs a hand down his face and leans back in his chair.
It’s uncomfortable to be called out on your shit, so by all means, get as comfortable as possible.
“I would never let someone hold you in a vulnerable state if I had the opportunity to be the one doing it. I took a compromising situation and made sure you’d succeed. Just like I always do,” he responds, crossing his arms in clear defense. “Yes, it was me.”
The air leaks out of my lungs.
It’s not a burst, like you read about, but more of a slow trickle. As if it wants to remain as long as possible to witness your pain.
He clenches his jaw, nostrils flaring. “If I’m able to prevent you from failing or being hurt, there is nothing that will stand in my way. Not even you,” he warns.
The sad part is, I understand. I’d do the same thing for him, even if it meant that he hated me for it.
“Here you are,” the server says as she hands us each our mugs of ale.
Ambrose tips his head toward her in thanks, but I never remove my eyes from his face. “Enjoy,” she throws out, oblivious to the tension in the air before sauntering off.
He held me in his arms. He made sure I did what was needed to succeed at the academy. He whispered soft words in my ear that could easily be misconstrued for something else. I may have been out of it and incoherent, but I remember everything he said.
Everything.
The fact that he whisperedgood girlin my ear will be something I will remember on my deathbed. I know underneath his strict exterior, something is there. He’s just too damn scared to act on it, which is rather ironic. He sits here spewing words of defiance in regard to allowing me not to fail when he’s too scared to even try.
“I wouldn’t want any other version of you than the one I remember from that day. I’d just also like the honest one who existed before becoming a Veil.” I beg him not only to hear me but also to listen.
His eyes shutter momentarily before he looks down and takes a big gulp of his ale. I gingerly sip mine because, as much as I tried to be one of the boys growing up, I could never hold my weight in ale. The last thing I want to do is get tipsy during this conversation since it’s the first time in a long time that he’s opened up to me at all.
“Right now, I don’t know what I want, Nori. I know what I need and what’s expected of me, but I don’t know what I want.” His fingers curl around his mug. “It’s not fair to you, and I know that. I know you want more than I can give right now, and it haunts me. I want to be the reason you smile and the strength you deserve, but right now, my loyalties lie in succeeding and ascending,” he says with a subtle shake of his head. “Everything Ihave to offer someone is on a superficial level, and I would never do that to you. You mean too much to me for that.”
His eyes look somber.
My soul is breaking.
It would have hurt less to be stabbed in the heart with a hot poker.
I mean too much to him but not enough to set aside his ambitions and explore what we could grow into. What happens when we’ve outgrown the bounds of friendship but can’t move into the next dynamic? Do we wither and deteriorate to a point where our friendship can’t survive?
I refuse to lose him from my life, as I couldn’t survive the fallout, but I also can’t remain in this stalemate where my feelings are unreciprocated. I can’t watch the man I’ve slowly fallen in love with over the past decade lie in bed after bed of other women.
“Where does that leave me, then?” I ask quietly, afraid of the answer but needing it even more.
“In the same place you’ve always been, Nori. My best friend and confidant. You’re my home.”
I inhale softly, his words so unfair. “That’s the problem, Ambrose. I don’t think I can remain in the same place I’ve always been…” I say on a broken whisper, staring into my lap. I don’t say more because I’ve laid myself bare enough. He doesn’t offer up any words of comfort and I won’t search for them.
Instead, he reaches across the table, palm up, waiting for me to take the extended olive branch. A confirmation that I’ll give him space, and our friendship is solid. An agreement that I’ll fall on the wayside and bide my time.
“I’m just asking you not to give up on me,” he says.
Against my better judgment, I place my palm in his.
Chapter seventeen
