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She laughs again, full of amusement from her own joke and eyes twinkling with ridicule. I politely smile, bringing my wine to my lips and taking a small sip.
She places a cold hand on my arm, fake reassurance laced in her tone. “It takes a lot of gall to show up to a party linked to someone like Rhylan and try to fit in. But I’m sure with time, you’ll learn. And if not, Rhylan has a long list of women waiting at the threshold, just ready for their moment to seduce him. Some that prefer actual heels and a cocktail dress.”
Her brows arch as she takes a leisurely sip of something amber colored in her tumbler. “I didn’t even know they made flats for girls past puberty,” she adds as she pulls her drink away from her lips, leaving behind a deep lipstick stain on the rim of her glass.
Her smile doesn’t leave her face, not once. It stays, taking up half of her face, all wide and toothy. Her eyes shine bright and amused, waiting for me to respond. Instead, I stay quiet.
I look away, her words stinging. They strike a nerve that I know has been there the whole time because she isn’t wrong. Not even a little bit. She laid out every worry and doubt that I felt when Rhylan brought me there. No amount of reassurance is enough to affirm that I belong in this world that feels so foreign to me. I feel like a fish out of water, flopping lifelessly on dry earth, just gasping for water. I want to go back into the deep depths of the ocean where I feel more at home.
My polite smile turns into a small frown. I haven’t had a moment to evaluate my and Rhylan’s relationship, or whatever this is. This is barely the second time I met him, third if I count the coffeehouse. I’m not sure what this is, but I know it won’t amount to anything. It can’t. We’re complete opposites. He’s a Hollywood movie star, someone that everyone knows and loves. I’m an ordinary girl. What do we have to offer to each other?
But everything we said, knowing that we saw a version of ourselves in each other, damaged and broken, I can’t ignore that. For some reason, we both understand. We speak like we’ve known each other our entire lives, learning and molding into the other’s thoughts and mannerisms naturally. I can’t let go of the fact that when I’m with him, I feel safe. I feel like I can say the things that I keep buried deep, thoughts that I feel shameful about with others.
“Oh, honey. I hope you don’t take any offense to what I said.” Constance’s expression changes to forced concern, her forehead creasing and eyes softening with her still-fake smile smeared across her face. “You have to have thicker skin if you’re going to survive in this town.”
I suddenly feel warm, my cheeks heating up and my chest feeling tight. I can feel my heart racing and the blood rushing to my ears. I feel so out of place, more so than I did earlier when I walked through those heavy wooden doors with Rhylan’s hand linked to mine.
I don’t belong here.
I need air.
“Excuse me,” I whisper before turning and walking towards the door, my steps quick and hurried. I realize I still have my wine glass in my hand, the deep red swishing as I pick up my pace, when a splash hits the floor with an audible slap. I quickly sidestep to avoid the wine that would have hit my foot and soaked the leather straps of my sandals.
When I turn to see if anyone has witnessed the spill, I find multiple pairs of eyes on me, including Rhylan’s. He had been speaking with Richard and Levi when his eyes find mine. I look at him apologetically before setting the glass down on the marble floor and walking out the door, pushing the heavy doors with my weight.
When the cool air hits my lungs, I finally feel like I can breathe. I close my eyes, and I try to even my breaths, in and out, letting the oxygen fill me and calm the creeping nerves that cause my whole body to tremble. I need to leave. I don’t even know where I am, but I need to get out of here. I reach into my purse to pull out my phone. Maybe I can call an Uber. Or maybe Claire can come get me.
I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to get home when I felt a warm, strong hand on my shoulder. The sudden touch causes me to jump and gasp. When I turn around, Rhylan is standing over me.
“Ellie,” he says softly. “Are you okay?”
“Um, yeah. I’m just trying to figure out how to get home,” I explain to him.
“You need to get home? I can take you.” He starts reaching into his pocket to fish out his keys when my hand moves to his arm to stop him.
“No, I’m fine. I can get home on my own,” I say, unable to hide the slight tremble in my voice. “Thank you for tonight. I really had a good time. You should get back to the party.” My words are rushed and panicked. I smile, a weak attempt to reassure him that I’ll be fine and for him to go back inside. Before he can say anything, I turn to walk away from him. My feet move down the long gravel pathway that leads to the large iron gates we drove through. I don’t even know where I’m going.
A sudden chill rolls down my back, and I cross my arms to keep myself warm. But it’s pointless because the chill I’m feeling has nothing to do with the temperature of the air and more to do with the insecurities that have taken over me.
“Ellie, wait!” he calls after me. I can feel his feet hitting the ground behind me as they crunch against the gravel, but I keep walking. I don’t want to face him. No, I don’t knowhow.What do I say to him? How do I tell him “let’s not waste any more of our time” without sounding presumptuous? Because that’s all this was: a waste of both our time. There was no point in all of this, and I’m not prepared to get hurt waiting around to see what will happen between us.
And then I feel his hand wrap around my wrist warmly and protectively. Every feeling that I felt before we drove through those ominous gates returns. Like the warmth that gave comfort to every bleak thought that I had. Or the electricity that buzzed between us when his fingers grasped mine, tangling them with his strong hands as if to reassure me. Even the sound of his deep voice that somehow managed to make me feel safe thawed through my guarded heart.
I stop walking, my feet still and unable to move. When I turn back to look at him, his feet move him closer. He inches towards me and fills the space between us until there barely is any. Just a fraction of air that’s full of heat. My body finally turns, gravitating towards him so that I can fully face him. To see his face and study the creases that form from worry as his hands move to cup my elbows.
“What happened?” His voice is alarming and unexpected, even though I knew he was going to speak first.
“Nothing happened!” I laugh, my smile disappearing as soon as it appears. My attempt to lighten the mood fails, his face not faltering. “I just need to get home. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pull you away from the party…” I trail off, biting my lip as I look away.
“Did Constance say something to you?” His voice is low, trying to coax the truth out of me.
I don’t nod or shake my head. When my chin begins to tremble, I angle my head down to hide it, just as he brings his hands to my face to lift it towards him.
“What did she say?”
“You know what? It’s really not important,” I protest as I slowly pull away. “Please, go back inside, and I can be out of your hair.”
“Ellie, I don’t want you out of my anything,” he says, his hold on me tightening as his eyes narrow. “What did she say?”
