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That reminder hits me like a jab to the ribs. My temper flares and all the blocking I’ve managed thus far threatens to smash to pieces.
I break eye contact with effort and face the guys. “I have to find Teal.”
Ronan protests, but I lift my dress and walk in the opposite direction.
No idea where Teal went, but if I can find her and Knox, I won’t have to face Aiden and his bitchy fiancée who must’ve come with him.
A whirlwind of bitterness grips me out of nowhere. My hands itch, and I curse myself for not bringing hand sanitiser.
The breathing shortage from earlier swings back with a vengeance. I nearly topple over from the force of it.
Air.
I need air.
Stumbling, I find a patio door open and I slip outside.
The music from the banquet dies down a little as the fresh air hits my face. Goosebumps cover my bare arms, but I don’t wrap my arms around myself. That’s for weak people.
Running away is also for the weak.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. The wound is still fresh. I’m sure with time, I won’t run away. There will be a day when I’ll see Aiden and walk right past him without sparing him a glance.
I hope so.
I really hope so.
Pain is temporary. Pain dulls over time.
However, I doubt there’ll be a day when I think about him and don’t feel ache, but I’m sure it won’t be this sharp or damning.
You’re strong, Elsa. You’re a Steel.
As Dad used to say, ‘no one fucks with a Steel and lives to talk about it.’
Taking a deep breath, I whirl around. I’ll go back inside and pretend he doesn’t exist.
I falter, my heels catching on the floor. Aiden stands in front of me like a grim reaper.
No, not a grim reaper. A monster.
My monster.
He doesn’t make a noise as he steps outside, purposefully invading my space and my air.
But that’s what Aiden does, isn’t it? He pushes you into a corner, and soon enough, you’ll realise there’s no way out.
He’s more intimidating and handsome than anyone should be. He has his father’s arrogant nose and the aura of a God amongst humans. Or rather, a king amongst peasants.
“Did you think you could run away from me, sw
eetheart?”
His voice is still the same, rough, deep, and sinister. No idea why I thought his voice would change in the span of a week.
My repressed anger catches on fire and boils through my veins. Profanities fight and claw to be set free like a hurricane brewing in the distance.
However, I remain silent.
