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My chest tightens with him so close. I can't move, there's no place for me to go. He's all around me, holding me in place without a single touch.
“That's not what I meant.” My words are a whisper as I try to gather myself.
I can smell his cologne and feel his breath on my face. His palms are pressed into the bench on either side of my body, boxing me in. My mind swirls with a million thoughts, all of them involving him and his strong hands.
Licking his lips, his jaw crooks to one side. “I should take you right here so all of those people—fuck, so all of New York knows that you're not some innocent socialite. Let them hear you scream while you’re on my cock. Let them see how good I make you feel.”
Gasping, I inhale sharply as my insides burn and my heart hammers in my chest. My eyes flick between his, but I stay silent.
“You need to make a choice, Siobhan. Be one of them, live a life of misery and trying to reach everyone else's goals for you. Or be happy. Free yourself from this waste, and do what you want to do. I know who I am, now it's your turn.”
Lifting his hand to my face, he strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles, then pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“When you figure out what you want, let me know.” Kissing my cheek, he releases my face. With his head held high, and his shoulders straight, he turns and leaves.
Placing a hand on my chest, cool air fills my lungs, and I realize I'm breathing fast and heavy. My skin is clammy, and every muscle in my body is buzzing.
Gathering myself, I take a few slow breaths to calm myself down, and go back inside. I barely get through the door before I'm cornered by my parents.
“We heard what happened,” my mother snaps under her breath. “I'm not going to make a scene, but I won't let him embarrass us. I don't know exactly how you got mixed up with that guy, but it's done and over. I'm not stupid. I can see the way you look at each other. He's not good enough for you, and he's certainly not welcome at our house. I want him gone by morning.”
My father just glares at me with his teeth clenched. He doesn't need to say a word for me to know what he's thinking. In his eyes, I fucked up big time. It isn't disappointment, it's straight up anger.
I don't even get to defend Mark. They both spin on their heels, noses up in the air as they storm off.
Standing alone, I watch the room move like a well-oiled machine, and it hits me that no one even notices or cares about my absence. My parents go right back into society mode, working the room with handshakes and fake smiles.
I feel out of place. A shadow on the wall. A silent presence. A puzzle piece that just isn't fitting in place.
Forcing a smile, I slip back in my seat. No one asks where Mark is. No one even bats an eye. It's like he was never here. It's like I never left.
Listening to the conversations around me, I realize I've heard them all before. The same stories, the same punch lines, the same old on repeat.
Nothing ever changes. These people never change. It doesn't matter who they are, they're all the same.
All these people care about is keeping up appearances. They care about the number in their bank account. They care about what fortune five hundred magazine does a spread about them, and if they make the cover.
They couldn’t care less if the donations actually go to anyone. They could give two shits if they change someone's life. None of it matters at all.
This world doesn't really care about anyone. Not even me.
But Mark cares.
