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"'You can't hide things from me'," he intoned nastily. "Isn't that what you said? 'We have to be honest with each other no matter what, Brandon.' Did I get that right, Skylar?"
My face burned at his words––my words, which I'd used so sanctimoniously. "Yes," I whispered. "But, Brandon––"
"But nothing!" he roared.
He turned to leave, but stopped in the doorframe. His blue eyes were bright and full of pain. My tears continued down my cheeks in oceans, but he just watched impassively.
"It's not your fault, Bran." Miranda's voice rang out, snide and condescending through the room. "Lies, thievery. You can't expect much more from people who don't understand people like us. Who can't ever imagine what we have."
Kieran and I both stared at the woman who was so impossibly tone-deaf. Had she forgotten where her husband came from? That at one point in his life, he had had less than every single person in this room by a long shot?
Miranda just glared back with a thin eyebrow torqued up her high, glossy forehead. "For all you know," she said to Brandon, "she was just in it for the jewelry. Come to play dress up once the Bank of Sterling was open for business. Trying to pretend she's Cinderella."
Behind her, Jared snorted. "Pretend is right," he said, to Miranda's short laugh.
Cory, of course, had to add in his two hateful cents: "No one will forgive an abortion in Boston, boss. Not in a city that's half Catholic."
In a sudden frenzy, I unclipped the necklace from around my neck as I finally found the strength to stand up. This was why I had always been so reluctant to accept gifts from him at all. There was always going to be someone saying things like this, accusing me of being in it just for his money.
"Here," I said as I held out the sparkling rope.
Brandon stared at the necklace like it was some kind of alien. He looked like he was trying to stop from crying.
"Take it," I said. " You know I never wanted this. I...I only ever wanted you."
Brandon's eyes flickered up from the necklace. For a moment, even with all of the sadness I saw there, I thought he might pull me to him, whisper it was going to be okay. There was still love shining through his grief. I could see it; it drew me to him, a moth to his sparkling blue flame.
He took the necklace from my hand, fingered it for a moment. Then his eyes shuttered. He dropped the necklace into his pocket.
"Then you shouldn't have broken my heart," he said, so quiet and forlorn that my heart practically wrenched out of my chest.
"Brandon," I begged, my voice breaking like a thousand creaky violins. "Brandon, please!"
I tripped over myself trying to cross the short space between us, finally collapsing in front of him on my knees. Gently, he pulled me up to stand, and I gripped his hands, thirsty for his warm touch, luxuriating in it. And for a minute, I thought things might be okay again. I thought he might forgive me.
"You promised," I whispered as tears fell freely down my face, streaming rivers over my painted cheeks. "You said you'd never stop chasing. You said I had to stop running. Well, I'm here. I'm here for you now, and I know it's hard, but I'm not going anywhere!"
Brandon stared down at our clasped hands. His big fingers were motionless and wooden under mine, which clenched his palms so hard I knew he'd later see moon-shaped crescent marks from my fingernails. His thumb crept over my wrist and toyed with the edge of my bracelet: the silver cuff he'd given me, engraved with the immortal words of Yeats, written for a lover he'd chased his whole life.
One man loved the pilgrim soul in you.
And then, in one small, heartbreaking movement, Brandon pressed my fists back to my chest and let go.
"I can't."
The words were so low I barely heard them, but they had the power of a wrecking ball. My hands, as if by reflex, rose to the bared skin at my sternum and pressed at the spot that threatened to crack open.
"Brandon," I tried again, my voice unnaturally weak and pathetic. "Please!"
I saw then in his eyes, glossy, red-rimmed sapphire depths that were barely hanging on to his composure, a depth of pain I never thought possible. The rest of him was as immaculate as ever, but in his eyes, there were layers upon layers of hurt that arrowed through me in a second. And I had put it all there.
"I don't want you here," Brandon said finally, each word landing like a hammer. "Go."
He left. Miranda cast one last dagger-laced glance at me before exiting, Jared and Cory close behind.
"Don't think you're getting away with this," I heard Kieran say as Miranda passed. Then she looked at me with open pity. "I'll have a car come around to the garage," she said before she too walked out.
"Sky."
