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I shrug again, trying not to squirm.
“Did something happen between the two of you?”
“Why does it matter?”
He makes an impatient sound. “Because you’ve clearly been crying, and I’ve never seen you cry in all the time I’ve known you. What happened between the two of you hurt you, so I want to know what it is.”
He thinks he’s talking to Amber. Not me. He sounds so defensive for Amber. Not me.
To him, Jade will be the bad guy.
I’llbe the bad guy.
It takes a few seconds for me to get my voice to work. “Yeah. We had a fight. She didn’t… She… I didn’t want her to leave everything. To be someone different. She even changed her name. It felt like a… betrayal. Of me. So I didn’t react… I could have done better.”
He reaches out to cup one of my cheeks with his big, warm hand. “What did you do, sweetheart?”
There’s a tug of feeling in my chest at the endearment, at how much I want to hear it. From him.
But he’s talking to Amber.
I should make up a story right now—throw myself under the bus. Tell him how terrible Jade was to me. Something to adequately explain our long separation and my emotions right now.
But I can’t make myself do it. I can’t betray anyone else, not even myself, by telling another lie.
It’s so terrible—all of it—my vision blurs over. I close my eyes.
“Tell me,” he says, hoarse and demanding.
I shake my head and pull away from his hand, turning around so he can’t see me contorting my face to keep from crying. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I force the words out, wobbly and unnatural. I set down my wineglass since I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep it steady.
William is silent, but he doesn’t go away. He simply stands there, and I can feel his eyes on me even though I’m turned away from him.
The evening air is cool, and a breeze blows against my hot face and raw eyes, blowing loose strands of my hair that escaped from the clip I secured it with before my bath. I can smell William beside me—that light, clean, expensive scent that is, like the man himself, both masculine and sophisticated. He’s still wearing the fancy suit he wore to the party, although he’s taken off the jacket and loosened his tie. I can hear him breathe.
His presence should have helped me control my emotions since I can’t afford to break down in front of him, but for some reason it makes it worse. My vision still hasn’t fully cleared, and now my shoulders start to shake.
It’s humiliating. And dangerous. But I can’t seem to not sob.
“Come here,” William murmurs, a thickness to his voice that’s only occasionally there. He puts a hand on my shoulder and turns me around.
I lose it. Shatter. I start to cry for real and let him pull me against his chest. His body is hard, lean, and warm, and his arms are strong around me. It feels like he cares about me. Like he wants to comfort me.
Like he’s holding me together.
Whether it’s real or not, it changes things. I don’t feel alone anymore.
Eventually my sobs subside, but I keep my face buried in his white dress shirt. It feels so good to have him hold me like this. Plus I’m embarrassed by the breakdown—don’t want to see his expression when I pull away.
He’s still got his arms around me as he asks softly, “Please tell me what you did, sweetheart.”
I did what I needed to do at eighteen—to protect myself and be my own person. And I spent years pleading for Amber to forgive me, to be in my life again, to understand why I made the choices I made.
I met her a month ago, still hoping that we could reconnect for real.
But that’s not what she wanted. It may never be what she wants. I might be broken, but she’s even more broken than me.
“I… I lost her. I love her, but she’s lost to me—and I’m afraid it might be forever.”
