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His eyes never leave mine and tears well at the back of them as I see a whole rail of emotions move through his.
Surprise.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
Hurt.
“What the fuck is this?”
I force myself to smile; it feels watery and thin and brittle.
“I’m getting married,” I rush out in a breath before I lose my nerve.
“To who?” he asks flatly and drops my hand.
“To Paul. I’m here with him. He knows Marcel…”
“I thought you worked for him?” He holds my hand, his eyes on the ring.
“No. I work for his family’s business. He’s not my boss or anything.”
“Do you love him?” he asks, his tone is harsh.
I close my eyes because I can’t look at him and say it.
“I’m pregnant.”
The room is silent.
He doesn’t say anything, but his chest heaves sharply on a silent gasp, and I can’t bring myself to look at him.
“Do you want to get married?” His voice is so gentle, so tender that it makes me want to weep in his arms.
“Yes.” I say even though, I want to confess that I’m not sure.
“Do you love him?” His voice is still gentler when he asks this time, but I can see the truth, the devastation in his eyes.
It makes me angry.
“You don’t get to look at me like that.” I spit.
“I fucking know, Kal.” He says and he sounds like he’s in pain. “I know that night was a shit show. But you disappeared without a trace. I had no idea where you’d gone. Why didn’t you ever try to get in touch?” His question is devoid of accusation, but I can see it in his eyes and the audacity of it is shocking.
“Why would I? We didn’t leave for four days after… that night. I never heard from you.” I almost choke on the memory.
His eyes narrow and he clenches his jaw.
“I came by the very next day, your mother said you didn’t want to see me. I came every fucking day until you I realized you were gone.” He grits out angrily.
I reel backwards.
My mother lied to me. Granted, I shouldn’t be surprised. It was just one in a string of lies that she told me my whole life. But when I think what might be different if I’d seen him before I left. If I’d known he wanted to see me… I can’t bear the thought.
They played games with our lives and they won. We were kids without a say. What’s done is done. I look over at Remi and he looks as despondent as I feel.
We stand there in a heavy barbed silence that makes the room feel very small.
