I See You

by Molly McAdams

  Jentry ground his teeth, making the muscles in his jaw twitch. “You love him. I love him.” His eyes flicked back to mine. “I told you that this would be entering a battle I couldn’t win. No matter what it looks like now, you have to realize how much I hate telling you to do this. But I’ve already entered. I already fought. I want to continue to, but I know I can’t. I owe Declan a lot—I owe him fucking everything—the very least of which is a chance to fight back while you decide.”

  My eyes burned with unshed tears, and chest ached at the thought of Declan unknowingly entering into a battle for my heart. I hated what I had done to him—what I was going to do him.

  Jentry cradled my face in his hands, but my tears made it hard to see his expression.

  “Don’t ask me to do this,” I pleaded.

  “You hurt, I hurt,” he whispered.

  “No, I don’t—it’s because you’re—would you stop being selfless and keep fighting!”

  There was a brief pause from him when a few tears finally slipped free, and I dropped my stare so I wouldn’t have to look at the anguish and indecision on his face. “I see you, Aurora. You need this just as much as Dec does.”

  My head shook, as if the action alone could force his words away.

  His lips pressed against my forehead and stayed there when he spoke. “You know you have to be the one to walk away.”

  My body deflated, and I wanted nothing more than to beg him to change his mind. I wanted to force myself to believe that I didn’t need or want this time with Declan. But Taylor grabbed hold of my hand and slowly pulled me from Jentry, and after a moment’s resistance, I stepped away from him and stumbled after her.

  I didn’t look back at him, and he didn’t stop me from leaving.

  Déjà vu swept over me, my entire being rebelling at this scenario. That soul-deep ache had just flared back to life, worse than ever.

  15

  Present Day

  Aurora

  I hadn’t gotten halfway through the field on my way back to the Veils’ home when Jentry reached me and turned me around.

  I wiped furiously at the tears on my face to see his features hardened with anger, but before I could speak, he said, “I need to go. Can you stay here?”

  “Here?” I hadn’t been able to make it through the party, and I could barely handle being around Linda, and he wanted me to stay?

  “Yes, here, can you stay?”

  “Why? What happened? Is it Declan?”

  Jentry’s head tilted, like he was about to say no, but instead he said, “I don’t have time to explain everything right now. Declan’s condition is the same as far as I know.”

  I searched his furious expression and only managed to shake my head when I couldn’t figure out where all his anger was coming from.

  “Just stay here,” he pleaded, then turned and ran across the field toward where he had parked his car.

  For the rest of the walk to the house I thought of his insistence on my staying here, and by the time I reached the front door had told myself that I would stay as long as possible for him.

  I had barely slid back into the party—most of the guests unaware that Jentry wasn’t in the house, let alone gone—when Linda spotted me.

  Her eyes had darted around to make sure no one was close enough to hear us before she’d sighed. “Well shit,” Linda said disgustedly, but kept her sweet smile firmly in place. “You know what they say about those people who speak too soon? Well, apparently the same goes for those who hope too soon. I’d nearly gone down to the cellar to get some wine because I’d thought you had left my sight for good. A number of things could have happened. You could have been trampled by pigs for all I knew.” Another sigh, followed by a pat on my shoulder. “One can only dream of it so many times before it finally comes true, sweet girl.”

  Only three minutes in, and I’d already hit my limit on staying in that house.

  I left and decided to start walking toward a little coffee shop not far from the neighborhood, and texted Taylor on my way, begging her to meet me since she had to be out that way for work that evening anyway. I could have waited for Taylor outside the house, but I didn’t want to risk having to talk with anyone since it would take well over half an hour for her to drive there. Anyone meaning Linda or Madeline again.

  When Taylor found me in the café just a few minutes after I’d arrived, her eyes were wide and greedy, as if she couldn’t wait to get the juicy details of everything that had been happening since I’d last seen her two days before.

  Only two days, but it felt like weeks . . . lifetimes, even. Being near Jentry and dealing with Linda had been physically and emotionally draining in so many ways.

  I already had both of our drinks sitting on the table in front of me, so Taylor bypassed the line and walked right up to our table. As soon as she was in the seat, she said, “So he’s back.”

  I nodded once, and my chin quivered. “Yeah.”

  The eagerness to hear everything quickly vanished from her expression, and one of her hands shot out to grip mine. “Oh, Rorie . . . no. No, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

  My head shook quickly as I forced the tears back. I was so tired of crying. “I don’t know how it can be,” I whispered, then hurried to fill her in on all that had happened since Jentry moved in.

  Ever since our weekend at the beach, where Taylor had interrupted Jentry and me, I hadn’t kept anything from her. On the drive home that weekend, I’d told her everything. Every emotional detail I could try to explain, from that very first night with Jentry to the way I had tried to find that connection with Declan, had tried to force it, even though I had known it would be impossible.

  I had explained my feelings for Declan, the way I’d fallen for him. How his charm and humor had been endearing, and his personality was everything that fit the man I wanted to marry someday. On paper, Declan was it. He was exactly what I would have created for myself. Funny, sweet, thoughtful, safe, the perfect man for someone I thought I wanted to be . . .

  I had admitted to her how I’d felt like I was cheating on him every time he’d touched me, every time I’d slept with him, but how I’d thought I would never see Jay again, and had tried to push him from my mind.

  And even then, I had known that while I loved Declan and had had only one night with Jentry, there would never be any comparison.

  I’d recalled every single conversation with Jentry over that weekend as best I could, not leaving anything out: whether Jentry and I were being spiteful to each other or pouring out our stored-up feelings, all the way down to when he’d hugged me goodbye.

  To Declan, it had probably seemed like nothing since Jentry had hugged Taylor as well seconds after.

  But to me . . . to me, that hug had been everything, and not nearly enough.

  He’d whispered, “I’m coming back fighting,” before releasing me and turning to Taylor.

  Taylor had been the only person for me to speak to afterward as I’d struggled with my feelings, and had never judged me or looked at me in disappointment again.

  She’d agreed with Jentry that I needed to give Declan a chance to fight for our relationship—whether he knew he was fighting or not—and that Jentry needed to be there when I did choose him.

  She was also the only one who had known the truth about the night of Declan’s accident before this afternoon, when I’d broken down talking to Jentry.

  Taylor sat there for a while after I finished talking, staring out the window as she absorbed all of my words. Finally, her eyes rested on me. “Okay, so this Jessica chick—”

  “There isn’t a point in talking about her. I don’t know who she is.”

  Her head dipped. “Okay, then never mind on that.” She took a long sip of her iced coffee, and her eyes glazed over as she thought. When she spoke her next words she did it slowly. “He was right, you know. Even if I still hated Jentry, I would agree with him that it would only end up worse for you if that family found out the truth if Declan
ever wakes up. They don’t have to know everything right now, but at least tell them that you were leaving him. Because what if he doesn’t wake up? Are you going to tell them way later, ‘Well, hey, just so you know, this is what actually happened that night. Surprise!’?”

  I tore my hand out from underneath hers and pressed it against my chest. It suddenly felt too hard to breathe. I wasn’t about to play off what was happening with Declan the way his family was, as if he might walk through the door at any moment, or actually answer my next call. But I refused to believe that he might not wake up.

  “And then if he doesn’t wake up, does that mean that you just keep pushing Jentry away forever, or how long until you stop being stupid about it?”

  “Taylor!” My mouth slowly fell open at her brazen words. “It’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. You’re looking at all of this as if it’s black and white, and it’s not. Okay, yes, when you and Jentry put it that way, I don’t know why I haven’t told their family about what happened. But actually telling them . . . well, it seems impossible. And as for Jentry, he understands that right now has to be about his family and Dec. I don’t know when that will change, but as for right now, we’re both on the same page.”

  “Are you?” Taylor said with a sarcastic laugh. “So you said it back?”

  I lifted an eyebrow in question, and waited.

  When I didn’t respond, Taylor gave me a look as if I was insane. “Rorie, he told you he was in love with you. That he’d been in love with you. Jentry isn’t some creepy lovesick stalker. He’s intense, and from what you’ve told me, is the kind of guy who probably shies away from love.”

  My chest ached because I would have said the same thing about him. I studied her expectant expression for a few seconds before shaking my head slowly.

  Her face fell. “Then, no. You’re not on the same page. What’s happening is you’re going to sabotage what could be the greatest love of your life for someone that you don’t love.”

  I let out a humorless laugh and leaned closer to her over the table. “Excuse me?”

  “You can’t love two people at once.”

  “You know, I seem to remember you saying something like this to me a month ago, only you were saying all of this in favor of Declan. And in case you have forgotten, I do love Declan. And how would you know what someone is capable of feeling? You think letting yourself love someone makes you vulnerable and weak,” I sneered.

  My anger didn’t faze Taylor. She only watched me until I finished speaking, and then she waited to see if I would continue. When I didn’t, and nearly a minute had passed, she whispered, “So, are you telling me you don’t love Jentry?”

  “What? No, I’m not—I never said that. And why does it have to be one or the other?”

  “I know what you’re doing, Rorie; and from what you told me of your conversation, Jentry saw it, too. There are ways of being with Jentry when the time is right, and still being there for Declan. But you’re going to let yourself get so wrapped up in your grief and guilt for what happened to Declan that you won’t ever let yourself have a life with Jentry, even when that perfect time comes. So if getting you to finally admit how much Jentry actually means to you will stop you from doing that—then that’s what I need to do.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, exasperated. “I’ve told you how much he means to me, and what would that change about right now? I told you that Jentry and I were on the same page.”

  “You’ve never said what he did.”

  Her accusation brought me up short. Not only had I not said the words out loud to Jentry, I’d never said them out loud to anyone—or thought them before a certain dark-eyed man entered my life.

  It was easy to tell Declan that I loved him. I loved my family; I loved Taylor. . . .

  Falling in love with someone was a whole different thing. It was life altering. Soul changing. It was invisible ink spilled onto your skin, writing every second of your story from beginning to end.

  “I think you’re right in a way, but you’re also wrong.” I had been staring at my still-full coffee when the words tumbled from my mouth, and looked up at Taylor’s curious expression. “I think a person can love two people at the same time, to an extent. I think a heart can be in love with someone, and love another.”

  When Taylor’s face remained the same, I cleared my throat and laid my hands flat on the table so I could focus on them instead.

  “I’m not in love with Declan; I never was,” I said just above a whisper. “I fell for him, and then grew to love him.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Just admit it and stop pushing Jentry away. He can help you through this time. You can help him through this time.”

  “I’m not pushing him away for the reasons you think I am. I have to keep him away because it’s too hard to be close to him. But admitting what he means . . . I can’t right now. Admitting it out loud when I can’t be with him would be like losing him all over again.”

  Part IV

  That Night . . .

  “What?” he growled, and looked toward the door long minutes later when we were laying in our bed of embers. Not speaking; just watching each other as he traced lazy shapes onto my skin with his fingers.

  I looked over his shoulder to see the knob twisting, and then someone started pounding on the door.

  Dark eyes met mine. “Don’t move.” He got off the bed and covered me with the comforter, then hurried to step into his jeans, leaving them unbuttoned as he went to open the door.

  The music from the party flooded into the room, but my mystery guy opened the door only slightly, so the person on the other side couldn’t see in, and I couldn’t see them.

  “Dude, did you take my—”

  “Mind staying gone for a few more hours?” my stranger asked, cutting off the deep voice.

  There was a pause from the guy on the other side of the door. “Really?” he asked, laughing. “Yeah, man. Have fun. You deserve it.”

  “I can leave,” I said once the door was shut and my mystery guy was walking back toward the bed.

  “Do you want to?” The way he asked reminded me of the way he kept giving me every opportunity to leave before.

  I responded with a slow shake of my head.

  His sinful eyes somehow darkened, and his mouth curved up into a smirk. “Roll over onto your stomach.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise and apprehension, but I still did as he said. Goose bumps rose over my skin when he slowly removed the comforter from me, and my breaths deepened when he gently prodded my legs to open.

  I waited for his next touch, but there was nothing as the seconds ticked on. Just the sounds of my ragged breaths, and him removing his jeans and tearing open another condom. My hands clutched at the sheets below me and my heart raced when I felt the bed dip as he knelt between my legs. He curled his arm between my hips and the bed, and slowly lifted while his other hand pressed down between my shoulder blades to keep my chest on the bed as I settled on my knees.

  His hand on my back was fire to my skin, as if he were branding me, and for a fleeting moment my mind and heart rebelled against me, and became too invested in this night and this guy as the words “Yes, I’m yours,” resonated through my soul.

  A shiver moved down my spine when his hands ran up my legs and back, then down the same path. His touch was gentle, but firm enough to remind me of his strength. To remind me of what he hadn’t wanted me to see—of what I was ready to beg him for again.

  Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he wrenched me up off the bed until my back was flush with his chest. My surprised gasp faded into a soft whimper when he bit down on my shoulder, then placed a soft kiss in the same spot.

  Hard, soft, hard, soft.

  The contradicting combination never ended, and I didn’t want it to. I wanted more.

  His breathing was as rough as my own, and I remotely noticed the thin sheen of sweat covering his muscled arm as his fingers gently trailed over my breast, and down my stomac
h. He teased me with the faintest hint of a touch between my thighs as his lips went to my ear.

  My body trembled when he ordered in a low, hoarse tone, “Bend over and place your hands on the wall. Don’t make a sound.”

  16

  Three Weeks Ago

  Aurora

  Ten days.

  Ten days since we’d come home from the beach, and I knew I couldn’t last another day.

  I’d tried to give Declan a fair chance. I’d tried to remember every reason I’d had for wanting to spend my life with him.

  But spending my life with Declan meant a life without Jentry. The pain that filled me at that thought had been excruciating, and had told me everything I needed to know. Because a life without Declan hurt.

  It just hurt.

  I knew what I’d told Jentry, but I couldn’t wait for him to come home to do this. I couldn’t keep pretending with Declan. Each kiss and each day left me more miserable than the last, and I knew he could sense it.

  I could feel him pulling away just as I had been. There was no point to put either of us through this any longer.

  A lump formed in my throat, and I forced myself to stand up from the couch when I heard his key in the door.

  The surprise of seeing his bright smile, and the roses and takeout food in his hands, made the thought of doing this that much harder, but didn’t make me waver in my decision.

  “Hey, how was your day?” he asked as he pressed his mouth to mine.

  I wondered if I’d been cringing away from his kisses the entire last week and a half. “Uh, it was . . .” I trailed off when he handed me the flowers and hurried past me to put the food on the table. “Declan, can we talk?”

  “Can it wait until after dinner?” I wasn’t sure if I imagined the frantic edge to his voice. He must have known I was about to protest, because he hurried to add, “Rorie, please.”

  I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and nodded, then walked into the kitchen to find a vase for the roses as Declan finished getting the food out.