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Kylian
ThelastpersonIexpect to see when I arrive at Amber is Kiara Yin. Stupid, considering it’s her father’s cigar bar, but I haven't run into her here, or anywhere, even once since Nathan told me she moved back to Hong Kong over a year ago.
Maybe if I had preempted it, I would've come up with something better to say other than "Miss me?" because based on the look on her face, if she’d been holding any kind of sharp implement she would most certainly have not missed me. That spear/bayonet/dagger/shiv would've stabbed right through my heart.
"Goodbye, Nathan. I'll see you later," Kiara says, completely ignoring my smooth opening line.
My best friend grins and tilts his chin at me. “You're not going to say hi to Kylian? You probably haven't seen him in eight years, since he came to the airport with us when Mom and Dad moved back to Hong Kong."
I flick my eyes toward her to see her jaw tighten at the mention of it having been eight years since we last saw each other. Apparently she'd told her brother as much as I had about what happened five years ago in London. Not a damn thing.
Her chest puffs out, chin slightly tilted at the ceiling, her eyes staying locked on Nathan’s. To stop her looking elsewhere? Something in the depth of my stomach tickles at the thought.
"Huh, has it only been eight years?" she says, her voice completely lacking in any emotion, "Time sure does fly when you’re not in the presence of a prickwaffle."
Nathan slaps me on the shoulder and chuckles, not at all surprised that she’s acting this way toward me. As her older brother’s annoying best friend, he’d only ever seen us insult each other.
I can't help but grin at her words which only serves to make her even more angry. She growls, finally turning her eyes to me for the first time, and blurts out, "What the hell are you two laughing about?"
"Oh, so she can see you! Here I was wondering if I was back to my imaginary friend phase," Nathan jokes. "In fact, I wouldn’t actually mind if you really turned invisible sometimes. It would definitely help me out when we’re trying to pick up women at clubs."
Nathan prattles on in the background but I can barely make out a word because I’m otherwise preoccupied.
Busy returning Kiara’s gaze.
And it’s knocked every breath, every thought, every intention, every memory out of my body.
All but one.
I don’t know what I’d expected to happen when we’d inevitably run into each other again, but it wasn’t this.
She looks different to how she looks in my memory. Older, yes. But I’m not sure that’s the right word for it.
Mature. Confident. Adult. Self-aware.
Grown into one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.
I can’t help but wonder what I look like to her but I’m about to get my answer.
"Ugh," she grunts, apparently free from all the feelings that have flooded me, and gives me a glare that feels like she definitely is hoping I'd be invisible. "Has it only been"— she emphasizes the next word — "eight years since I last saw you? Life treating you a little bit harshly, Kylian?"
My name coming out of her mouth is like a shock to the solar plexus and the tickle in my stomach has done a full-blown somersault. I take a breath and then, again, I do what I know is going to annoy her most. I grin at her.
"You're kidding right? He looks like he's still 25," Nathan says, apparently oblivious to the point of this diatribe and to his baby sister’s aggravation.
The point, of course, is for Kiara to make it blatantly clear to me that she hasn't forgiven me for what happened last time we saw each other.
"What can I say, maybe I've been packing on the pounds," I sigh, gently patting my six pack.
"Kylian! My boy, you are looking well," Nathan and Kiara's father, Dennis, shouts, stepping in behind Nathan and giving me a firm pat on the back. "Kiara! Isn't it lovely to see Kylian? You probably haven't seen him in years!"
She gifts us another eye roll and leans over to give her father a kiss on the cheek. "Yes, Dad. It's about as lovely as having my left pinky toe slowly removed with a pair of rusty hedge clippers and fed to me on the end of a dirty fork. Dipped in a sauce made of mushed up eyeballs." She gives me one last look, filled with all things synonymous with pure hatred, before turning to her father. "I'll see you next week, Dad. Hopefully without unwanted interruptions." This time her brother gets part of the glare as well and she walks away before she’s forced to be in my presence for another second.
We turn, watching her practically run out the door. My feet itch to follow, and I would have, had her father and brother not been looking at me, wondering why I am staring out into the street.
"Thank you for coming, Kylian," Dennis says, taking my arm and leading me over to their table in the corner. "I know you're a busy man."
"Never too busy for you, sir," I say, my voice full of affection for the man. For a long time, Dennis Yin was more of a father to me than my own father. And while I'm now rebuilding my relationship with my dad I won't ever forget the man who was there when I needed a father most. "What can I do for you?" I ask, and hope he knows there’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for him.
