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Instead, I spin from him and re-secure the mask I’ve worn most of my life, plastering a fake smile on my face and pretending Creed didn’t just rip my heart out of my chest.
As I re-enter the ballroom, I’m immediately stopped by some ambassador and his wife to discuss one of my charity initiatives.I barely hear a word they say, though.How can I when the sound of my heart breaking is more deafening than anything else in the room?
I worried something like this might happen when he grew distant.
I thought we were stronger than this.
I guess I was wrong.
“My apologies,” I say when a silence falls over the conversation, the expectant expressions surrounding me indicating they’re probably waiting for a response.“I’m needed somewhere else right now.”
The ambassador and his wife bow their heads slightly, and I make my way through the ballroom, my heels clicking against the marble floor.I slip through one of the open sets of double doors and onto the verandah, a summer breeze caressing my skin.
A few people mill about, smoking and laughing, but I ignore them, heading toward the ledge and placing my hands on it for support.
I scan my surroundings, about to do my counting exercises to help reduce my anxiety, but all that does is bring up more memories of Creed.
I have a feelingeverythingwill bring up memories of Creed.
“Want to talk about it?”
Startled, I whirl around, pushing down my surprise and fixing my expression.A tall figure looms a few feet away, a smile tugging on his lips.But it doesn’t reach his eyes like it once did.
“Talk about what exactly, Mr.Gates?”
“For starters, what has you all worked up.”He narrows his gaze.“Or perhaps, I should saywhohas you all worked up.”
“I…” I shake my head, squaring my shoulders.“I’m fine.Thank you for your concern.”I turn back around, soaking in the stunning gardens on my brother’s property.
“Well, it’s good to know some things never change,” Jameson remarks as he moves to stand beside me.
“And what’s that?”
“That you’re still a damn good liar.”
“I’m not lying.I—”
“You’re not?”He arches a disbelieving brow.“Don’t forget.We once spent an entire summer trying to fool the country.Hell, the world.”He playfully nudges me.“I’d like to think I’ve picked up on a few things.Learned when you’re pretending to be okay even though you’re not.”His smile falls.“Like right now.”
I push out a long sigh, on the verge of insisting yet again that I’m fine.But over the past few months, Jameson has proved to be trustworthy.He didn’t keep me in the dark about anything.In fact, he took the initiative to visit me the day after I saw the man with the scar to tell me he believed me.He’s one of the few people whohasbeen honest with me.Who hasn’t purposefully kept the truth from me.
It’s only right I return the favor and not keep the truth from him, either.
“Kane Kingsley,” I announce in a determined voice.
He blinks, confusion furrowing his brow.“I’m sorry.I don’t—”
“The man with the scar.That’s his name.”
He doesn’t immediately respond.Just stares, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.Then he nods.“I see.”Placing his hands on the ledge, he peers into the distance, a contemplative expression creasing his brow.“How did you find out his name?”He glances my way.
“I sketched his face and gave it to Cr—” I stop short.The mere mention of his name leaves a sour taste in my mouth.“A friend.”
“And he helped track him down?”
“More or less.”
“What do you know about him?”
