"Do you remember when you called me today, James?" I ask slowly, turning back around to face him.
"I didn't call you today, Kate," he says, furrowing his brow.
"Oh, but yes you did," I say. "When you were shit faced drunk, you did!"
James pales.
I hear his breathing accelerate. "You're a lying son of a bitch," I say. "All these times when...when you've said you were at work...and you didn't pick me up those times..." I struggle to form words through my anger.
"Kate, let me--"
"Stop talking, James, and stop calling me by that name."
James takes a step back, obviously shocked by my burst of anger.
"Has this been happening...since we began dating?" I ask, afraid for the answer.
James avoids my gaze.
"That's what I thought," I say disdainfully. "That's what I thought." I look at the floor, a stream of betrayed tears running down my cheeks.
James seems frozen to his spot.
"How, honestly, did you manage to clean up so fast?" I ask him, beginning to pace. "You don't look like you've been drunk." I shake my head and stop walking. "I'm such a fool for ever thinking an internship was that busy."
"Katie--"
"Dylan was right," I say. "I just stuck around you because I'm...I'm afraid of being alone. You never treated me right and I should have recognized that before."
The realization hits me as the words leave my lips. I'm afraid of being alone. Ever since the incident with Courtney those years ago, I've been afraid to be without someone. A weight feels like it's been lifted from my shoulders at the same time a heavy load has descended upon me.
"Dylan?" James's eyes flash. "Dylan said something to you?"
I pause, realizing my mistake. "James--"
Before I can register what's happening, James has turned on his heel and paced out of my apartment and out into the hall, his fist pounding against Dylan's door.
I rush out behind him. "James, no!"
Dylan opens the door, confusion written on his face. His brow furrows.
"What did you say to her?" James shouts at him, his face inches from Dylan's.
Dylan wipes a drop of James's saliva from his face and I almost stifle a laugh. "Excuse me?" He asks calmly.
"What the hell did you say to Katie?" James bellows.
"I've said a lot of things to Katie," Dylan says, his tone even. Dylan's gaze flashes to me momentarily before focusing back on my angry boyfriend--well, ex-boyfriend. I tug on James's arm.
"Please, James," I say to him. "Don't do this."
I feel Dylan's dark eyes on me as James rips his arm from my grasp.
I mentally beg Dylan to shut the door now, to spare himself from James's blind anger.
"You'd better stay away from her," James growls.
"And if I don't? Katie can make her own decisions. She's not your property."
Blush rises to my cheeks at Dylan's defense of me. I turn back to James, however, to pull him away from Dylan.
"James, stop doing this. You're being ridiculous." I tug on James's arm again. He turns to me, anger flashing in his eyes.
"Enough, Katie!"
The next sequence of events seems to happen in fast motion as James shoves me away from him with such force it sends me staggering back before I hit the floor.
Chapter Thirty Eight
The roughness of James's shove and the malice behind it hurts more than the impact of my body on the floor. I stare up at James, my eyes damp, completely apalled at his actions.
Dylan's eyes ignite in rage as he steps forward and shoves James back, hard.
"How dare you treat her like that," he sneers. Fear takes the place of anger on James's face as he hits the wall.
I seem glued to the floor as I watch the events commencing before me.
"I know you want her," James snarls, recovering from his fear. "I know you've been after her since--"
"You're wrong," Dylan snaps. "Katie and I are only friends."
"Oh, I wrong, am I?" A wicked smiles crosses James's face. "Don't even lie, you're so full of--"
"You don't know shit, Doctor Boy, and if you'd like to keep your face intact, I advise you shut your filthy fucking mouth." Dylan's voice is rough and low; threatening.
"Right, I'm sure the accountant here can really do shit to my face," James taunts and Dylan steps closer to him.
I push myself off the ground. "James, stop! Enough already. You've made your point. Just leave."
Both look to me.
James looks like he's going to burst into flames as he looks back at Dylan.
"I want your despicable ass out of here, now," Dylan says lowly.
James turns back to me.
"Katie," he says. "Come on, we can work this out."
"Are you kidding?" I scoff. "You think you can treat me like shit and then 'work it out' with me? No way."
James looks between Dylan and I. "All right, I'll get out of here," he says, his voice having an edge to it that sends chills down my spine. "But I know something that you would much rather keep secret. So watch your backs." My blood runs cold at his words.
James grimaces at us a last time before turning on his heel and disappearing into the stairwell, his angry footsteps echoing as he descends the stairs.
Dylan looks over at me.
"Are you all right?" He asks me quietly.
I nod and push my hair out of my face. I feel so weak. I've always wanted to be strong, and independent, but I suppose that's one of my tragic flaws--I'm terrified of being alone.
"Come on," Dylan says, nodding towards his apartment. "I'll make tea."
I shut my eyes for a brief moment, a headache brewing in the back of my skull. "My relationship with James sucked but...I still feel really alone right now and I--"
Dylan turns back toward me, a sad smile on his lips. "You don't know alone like I do, Katie."
Chapter Thirty Nine
In the end, Dylan does make tea, the same Seven Eleven tea he made me the last time we had tea together. We sit at the kitchen counter and look out the window as rain starts to fall outside.
"Hey," Dylan says suddenly. "It's the first day of October."
"Yeah," I say. "It is."
It's silent after that.
I'm emotionally drained from the events that took place not even an hour ago. I know I shouldn't be so upset over a relationship that wasn't good for anything, and yet here I am moping.
Dylan stirs a spoon in his tea, humming lowly under his breath. It's now that I notice just how lovely he is; with his green eyes cast down into his mug, his eyelashes fanning out onto the tops of his cheeks. His tattoos are visible from underneath his navy blue t-shirt and his face is relaxed, a sharp contrast from how it is most of the time.
"Do you have any siblings?"
Dylan looks up at me. "Siblings."
"Yeah. Brothers or sisters."
He looks back down. "Yeah," he says. "A sister." He looks out the window at the pouring rain and sighs.
"How old is she?"
"I don't remember," he answers. He chews on his lip as he looks back at me. "I haven't seen her in three years."
Feeling like I've hit a nerve, I back down. "Oh."
"What about your sister?"
I frown. "What about her?"
"How old is she?"
"She's...nineteen."
"Nineteen."
I nod. "I haven't seen her in a year."
"Why not?"
"Because she hates me."
Dylan looks like he wants to ask me more, but he doesn't, to my surprise. I swallow the rest of my tea and stand.
"Thanks for the tea," I say.
Dylan takes my mug and puts it in the dishwasher, nodding. "You don't want to stay?"
I shake my head and look at the floor.
"Katie."
I look up, meeting his gaze.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
I shrug, looking to the floor as he st
eps toward me, tugging me by the arm until my face is resting against his chest in a gentle embrace. Tears slip out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. This is the third time I've cried in front of Dylan, and I feel just as horrible about it as the other two times. I hate feeling this way, and displaying it in front of Dylan seems to make it worse.
I feel his warm palm soothingly rub my back as he whispers, "shh," into my hair. I don't want to be crying over James, I don't want to cry over the downfall of a bad relationship.
"You're all right, Katie," Dylan says quietly and I pull away, nodding as I wipe the tears from my face. Dylan rests his hands on my shoulders, trying to catch my eye.
"I'm sorry," I mutter.
"Don't be," Dylan says. "It's all right to cry."
I nod again and he lets his hands fall from my shoulders, instead stuffing them into his pockets as he leans back against the counter behind him.
I take a few deep breaths and Dylan watches me, his brow furrowed and his eyes sympathetic. The green pigment in his irises seem to hold some sort of empathy that intrigues me as well as breaks my heart.
"Did you love him?" Dylan's deep voice breaks the silence.
"James?"
He nods.
I lower my gaze. "No," I say quietly. "I've never been in love."
"You're lucky."
I lock eyes with him. "You've been in love?"
Dylan takes a breath before turning his head to look out the window. He nods slightly.
"What happened?" I dare to ask.
"Nothing," he says.
"Come on, it had to be something," I say, raising an eyebrow.
"That's just it, though," he says, almost sadly. "Nothing happened." He smiles sadly.
"I'm sure you'll find someone new to love," I say to him.
Dylan laughs dryly. "Love is abstract," he says. "It brings nothing but trouble." He laughs again and runs his tongue over his teeth.
An overwhelming sense of sadness engulfs me at that moment, for us both. Dylan, for losing love and refusing to believe in it anymore, and me, for being afraid of being without someone else. It seems that we're opposites--tragic opposites.
"Dylan," I say and he looks back at me. I take a breath. "I know it doesn't seem like it at times, but I'm really glad I met you."
A small smile crosses Dylan's face. "Believe it or not, the feeling is mutual."
I leave Dylan's apartment shortly after. So many aspects of my life have changed in the short month I've been in Edinburgh--I've gone from (almost) loving to hating James, and hating Dylan to, well--not hating him.
I realize I didn't tell Dylan that I'm going to London. It should be good to get out of town for a few days to escape the drama of James and Alec. I walk into my bedroom and haul my suitcase down from my closet. Maybe this won't be so bad, just as long as I don't reopen old scars with my sister.
Chapter Forty
"Make sure you bring a nice dress or something in case we go out for dinner," my mother says through the phone. "There's a new Thai place we wanted to try out. Does Thai sound good to you? Maybe for Saturday night?"
"Sure," I say, running a hand through my hair. "Thai sounds great."
"Great. Did you double check you have everything? Won't want to leave something behind."
"I've got everything, Mom," I say through the phone as I zip my suitcase.
"How long is your flight?"
"About..." I look at my flight information. "Five hours and forty minutes."
"Oh, that's not too long. You'll be here in time for dinner."
"Yeah," I say. "I should really get going, I'll see you in a few hours."
"All right. See you soon!"
I hang up and haul my bag out of my apartment, into the hallway. I lock my door carefully and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.
It's Friday morning, and I'm missing work today to fly to London. I'm a bit nervous to see my sister, but I'll have to suck it up. I can't hide from her forever.
"Katie?"
I turn and meet Dylan's eyes as he steps out of his apartment, a jacket slung over his arm. He's in his work clothes, the white sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows.
"Hi," I say.
"Going somewhere?"
"Uh, yeah." I stick my hands into my back pockets. "I'm flying to London for the weekend."
Dylan's eyebrows shoot up. "Really."
I nod. "Yeah, my mom wanted me to."
"That's probably good, that you're going," he says.
"Why?"
"I was planning on talking to...Alec this weekend and it's good that you won't be here in case..." In case he decides to send people to ransack my apartment again.
"Oh, right," I say, and Dylan nods, his gaze moving to the floor.
We walk to the elevator, silence descending upon us. This is such an odd neutral state we're in, when we're not fighting. I can't complain about it, though--this truce we have covers for some of my loneliness I've been feeling since James and I broke up, even if James was an intolerable douchebag.
It's been a few days now, and he's practically blown up my phone with calls, voicemails, and messages. At first they were all apologetic and sorry, but they slowly morphed into angry, vengeful messages. I'm contemplating on whether to block his number or not, but I keep forgetting to. Packing and preparing for my short trip has been the only thing on my mind.
"When will you be back?"
I look up at Dylan, breaking my train of thought. The elevator doors chime open and we step into the lobby together.
"Sunday night," I reply. "I'll be at work on Monday."
Dylan nods. "Hmm."
We stop walking at my car, and Dylan helps me with my bags. I admire the small tattoos scattered across his forearms as he shuts my trunk, turning back to me.
"Well, have a safe trip," he says, meeting my gaze. He smiles at me, his delicate dimples appearing on his cheeks.
"Thanks," I say. "Have fun not doing work."
He rolls his eyes and I laugh. "I do work," he protests and it's my turn to roll my eyes.
"You work on ways to annoy the shit out of me," I tease and he shrugs. We laugh again.
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