by Corri Lee
“It’s been...” Henry’s teeth ground.
“Be honest with me... Dad.”
He sighed helplessly and rested a hand over mine. “It’s been bad. We’ve had to go to extraordinary lengths to make sure he hasn’t seen any of the press coverage about you and Calloway. There have been daily arguments over him demanding your new phone number and address.”
“He’s been trying to get to me?” That put an entirely different spin on the way I’d been seeing things. I’d let myself believe that he hadn’t come to me because I didn’t mean enough. But now, was I being told he hadn’t come because he hadn’t been allowed?
“We knew you’d come back when and if you were ready to be with him again, and you wouldn’t have liked the state that would have arrived on your doorstep.”
“I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the state that did turn up on my doorstep.” Hunter’s eyes locked with mine at exactly the right minute. Why couldn’t Esme have come? Daniel might have been better. It would have been easier to say no to them.
Henry chuckled softly and gave him a cheeky wave. “We hardly kept Hunter clued in after we realised he was what made you ill before. But he arrived here last week wondering where you were, and unfortunately he wasn’t as easy to stop. He got right on a plane to you and promised Blaze, Esme and your mother that he’d bring you home whether you were ready or not.”
“Well shit.” You could always depend on Hunter to push me just the slightest bit too far. It was a comfort to know that, for the most part, people had respected my need for distance but had tried to protect Blaze from feeling like he’d been written off.
Even though he had. Broken mess or not, he had a life I couldn’t be a part of and I had begun to carve my own way into the streets of New York.
Nothing could change the fact that we were never meant to be.
Complacency hung heavily in the atmosphere when our main course of steak fillet was served. The wake-like weight of grief clung to us, the chatter stemming off into smaller personal conversations. Twelve of us sat like we were each on our own, forcing niceties that carried no real interest.
And I knew it had little more to do with anything other than the fact Blaze and I hadn’t thrown ourselves into a reconciliation the moment we’d seen each other. That was the expectation made of me when I’d arrived, but how could I when I even felt too raw to look at him?
“You haven’t drunk much.” Hunter eyed my barely touched glass of wine warily.
“Are you complaining because I’m not quaffing the free booze like a holiday drunk?”
“No, I’m concerned because you’re already hammered.” I bristled because it was true. One scotch and a glass of wine and I was already feeling languid and drowsy. “What’s going on?”
Tongue loosened by the alcohol, I shoved some vegetables around my plate. “I’m not supposed to drink on my... stuff.”
His fork clattered out of his hand. “What stuff?” Grabbing my glass, I lifted it to my lips as a distraction as I circled a finger around my ear. “Crazy...? Oh!”
“Got it?”
“I got it. I guess you’d have to be on something, spending that much time with Calloway Ryan.”
I set my glass back down with a thud. “That’s not funny. You don’t know him. The media has him wrong. He’s just like me, Hunter. Just. Like. Me.” Nodding my chin stiffly, I resumed picking at my meal, which had gone cold by that point.
Hunter followed form, shovelling potato onto his fork. “Wow. I guess that explains why you were with him. Do you love him?”
I sucked in a breath. “No. And he knows that. He’s just hoping I will when I get over—” my eyes travelled up from my plate to what lay beyond the blue and crystal glass work. Any hope of getting a covert glance at Blaze was thwarted when I found him taking the same sly look at me. The short space between us crackled with all the words that wouldn’t, and shouldn’t, be spoken. “—this.”
“If things were different, would you stay here?”
“What? I...” Scowling, I began to attack more than cut my steak. “I don’t know, Hunt. If it hadn’t been this way, it wouldn’t have meant so much, but the way it is makes me crazy. I think part of me thought seeing him would give me a sense of closure but...”
“But what?”
Feeling myself starting to rile, I chewed a mouthful of my dinner while I thought about that ‘but’.
But I still loved him? That much was obvious.
But I loved the impossible idea of it all being banished after three courses and coffee? That was impossible for a reason.
But it would be easy for me to walk away? That would have been a lie.
“But I’m still wearing his engagement ring. Even if I go back to New York, I can’t give him up. But I spent so long becoming a person who could survive losing him and I don’t think think I can betray myself like that just because he still looks like a demigod and suffered like me.” Stabbing a carrot, I added, “And I can’t betray Cal.”
“Don’t you at least want to talk to him? So much has changed since you left.”
I leaned my head on Hunter’s shoulder with a groan. Maybe I could understand why I’d loved him so much after all. As brusque as his methods were, he was always trying to push me to self-improvement somehow and this was no different. He just wanted me to be happy.
But the moment I let Blaze talk me around was the moment I’d start second guessing the decisions I’d made since August—decisions that had led me down a new path I liked. I would never doubt the choice to leave, whether the places it had led me to were better for my future or not. I’d needed to go there to see that life didn’t have to be about routine and stability. I’d needed to see that I didn’t need to seek validation through sex.
I’d needed it to appreciate what it was I’d once been. Whoever it was Blaze had cried for, I wasn’t her anymore. Nobody could guarantee that he’d even want what I was now.
I battled down the rest of my meal, feeling my stomach straining at the seams of my dress. Esme always planned for a good half an hour between the main course and dessert so her guests could relax and make room for the delicious treats that they would otherwise be too full to enjoy.
When the background music that had been piped in through a tannoy system got a little louder, everyone but Jonathan, Chris, Hunter and myself headed to the dance floor to burn a few calories. As though he’d waited for the more vulnerable members of our party to leave, Jonathan swung an arm around the back of his chair and turned to me with a twinkle in his eye.
“So, Emmy, how was New York?”
I groaned with lustful reminiscence, launching into a full blown account of my experience over there, of course omitting the part about Calloway. By silent agreement, Hunter and I weren’t going to mention him unless someone else did. There was a time and a place. The food, vista and club scene, however; they were fair game.
My alcoholic buzz apparently drove my story and drew in my captive audience of three. “So it’s pretty much true when they say you haven’t lived until you’ve seen New York in the autumn.”
“Who says that?”
I shot a look at Chris. “I say that. For the purpose of this conversation, I am they. I am, after all, all bar four people of everyone you know.”
Hunter snorted behind me, which won him a scathing look from Chris. He’d been good enough to be civil to my ex-obsession all evening but by no means did he like the guy. “Are you going to go all Carrie Bradshaw on us and start calling New York your great love affair?”
“Oh, Hunter.” I spun around and cupped his face in my hands. “My dear, deluded Hunter. There are no great love affairs, just great lovers. You can kiss all the princes in the world, but eventually you’re going to realise that no amount of love and lip-locks will ever change the fact that they’re all really just frogs.” Catching everyone off guard—including myself—I pulled him up close and planted a stiff kiss on his lips. It was something I’d dreamed of doing for years b
ut never actually had the courage to take the plunge.
His lips were thinner than I imagined, not as warm and soft as they had been in my school girl fantasies. It was... nothing. A disappointment. No major spark ignited that made me want to drag him under the table.
It was plain for everyone to see that I didn’t love him. Maybe I should have made that move years ago.
Chris hissed playfully, and when I looked up, I saw why. Open mouthed, pale faces stared at me around the table. Everyone had returned at the same time and I had no idea how much they’d heard. All eyes shifted to Blaze then, who looked like he’d witnessed a murder. I swallowed reflexively and released Hunter’s face, picked up my wine and sipped at it like nothing had happened. Because it hadn’t. I’d mockingly kissed a friend.
But because I knew that everyone around me needed reassurance—even though it wasn’t really my responsibility to make Blaze feel better—I paused with the glass by my mouth and said, “Ribbit.”
He probably didn’t mean to smile with as much enthusiasm as he had, and I certainly didn’t mean to mirror it. It was automatic and it hurt like hell to lose that battle against him. My smile faded as fast as it came and the only way I could clear the lump in my throat was with more wine.
Our sundaes arrived with sparklers in them, which made Ivy clasp her hands to her chest and gush gleefully. I felt as much as saw Esme’s adoring glance across the table, which made me wonder how close they’d become in the past few months. They had always been fond of each other, but I knew that they would have been the two people who took my departure almost as badly as Blaze had. Add to the equation that Ivy had an insatiable need to mother and Esme’s lack of a maternal figurehead in her life, had they somehow forged a near familial bond?
Had I been replaced?
Shrugging it off, I dug into the ice cream and let myself enjoy the sweetness of butterscotch and fudge. Jigging happily in my seat, I made patterns in the sauce with the curve of my spoon, letting myself be distracted again.
Until Henry piped up with his booming dictatorial drone. “How are the wedding plans going, Hunter?”
All the unexplained anxiety coiled up in Hunter released in a low growl. “Catastrophic might be a good word. Siobhan launched into full-bore bridezilla mode in the summer. She wasn’t exactly happy when I said I wouldn’t go through with the wedding without Emmeline there.”
Jeez. That was his problem. So close to walking down the aisle, he was throwing that kind of news at his fiancée. I hated the woman but hell, my innate need to stand up for womankind coursed violently through my veins and burst right out of my mouth.
“Good one, Hunter. You spend years prioritising her then tell her she has to play second fiddle to me on the biggest day of her life. Congratulations, you might just be in the running for the worlds biggest idiot.” Seemingly reading my mind, he took a covert split-second glance across the table at his competition for that title and shifted around to rest one hand on my shoulder while the other shoved a glass of champagne into my palm. The ‘shut up and drink’ gesture didn’t go missed by anyone and there seemed to be a simultaneous wince around the table which Hunter ignored.
I slapped a twenty against Chris’ forehead.
Hunter went on regardless. “So we decided that while I’m over here, we’d consider ourselves separate entities and decide if a lifetime bound is what we really want. Trial separation, you know.”
“Copycat.” I bit my lip and sucked it, mortified that I’d blurted out a word so rife with implication. A temporary split—that wasn’t what I was doing. Was it? People had been telling me all night that they’d believed I come back. I guess ‘temporary’ was exactly how it looked.
I clicked my tongue impatiently, irritated that nobody believed I could actually start and commit to a new life permanently.
“So how are you feeling about it, son?”
“All right, actually. I’m not sure I want to be with someone who’d tell a seventeen year old girl who’d already suffered enough that she was fat, ugly and ‘so desperately repulsive just looking at you makes me question the process of natural selection.’“
“... Did you slip through the net or did the planet let you live to make an example of what would happen when the weaker species are allowed to survive? You’re so pathetic it makes me sick, Emmelame. Anorexic and still a fat fuck, and for what? You think Hunter would go for you skinny anyway? You’re ugly—pig ugly. Why would he ever go for you when I’m around? Do yourself a favour and disappear because he wouldn’t even notice if you were gone. He wouldn’t care if you were dead.”
She’d told him about that day I’d tried to kill myself in the bathroom and how much she’d had to do with it? My white knuckle grip around the crystal flute made it shatter, splashing champagne across the white tablecloth. I watched it soak into the fabric, only distantly registering the calamity around me.
“My God, Emmy, are you all right?”
“What?” Looking down I saw the shards in my left palm. No pain, so I presumed I wasn’t cut. “Oh. I’m fine. Ah, uh...” A vivid red spot hit the cloth. “Maybe not.”
Before I could stand, someone reached for my hand and pressed down over the cut with a clean napkin. I knew who it was just from the unmistakable energy that pulsed through him and the feverish heat rising from his skin. His fingers brushed over the underside of my knuckles, finding the band of the emerald ring.
“Do you need a first aid kit, Blaze?”
“No.” His voice still had that deep cadence and velvet softness that had me captivated from the first moment I heard it. He lifted the napkin slowly. The cut was barely visible and no longer bleeding. I suspected it was because my heart had stopped. “It’s just a superficial injury. You won’t even remember it happened in the morning.”
It felt so much like he was referring to more than a scratch on my hand. I just wasn’t sure of the context.
Daniel stole my first dance after our coffee, taking the lead so I could sag against his shoulder. It wasn’t all that late, but the affects of the drug-addled alcohol in my system were worsened considerably by the full on emotional assault I’d endured since my arrival. I felt weaker than I had in New York, handling the lack of sleep worse than I had there. Of course, I’d gotten no rest in the flat and had ended up working through the night instead.
Humming to the music, Daniel wrapped his arms loosely around my back. “So have you figured out that everyone is trying to push you back together yet?”
My head lifted slightly. “I had a feeling.”
“I want you to know that I had no part in it.” That much had been obvious. He knew to let me deal with life my own way but to be ready to swoop in and be my hero. “But seeing as you’re here...”
“Dan...”
“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, Emmy. But there are no cameras in here tonight. No incriminating photos can get back to Calloway. If you’re still going back to New York, at least go with no regrets.”
I arched my back to look at him properly. “Are you suggest him I bang him and get it out of my system? Because I seem to remember that not working.” Recalling the last time I’d seen Blaze and he’d tried to fuck the hell out of me to make me stay induced a pleasant shiver I didn’t even try to keep a lid on. There was no helping it; the man had been a sex god.
“No, are you nuts? I’m saying you can get close to him without striking an open vein of paranoia in your crazy ass boyfriend.”
“Oh.” That was a valid point. It was bad enough for Calloway to know that I still loved Blaze, and bad enough that I’d disappeared without warning, but then to find pictures of us together while he was still in Boston... “I’d have no idea what to say to him.”
“I’m sure he’d do all the talking. There are things he can tell you that nobody else can. Just hear him out.”
We danced a little while longer, my eyelids getting heavier with every step. At some point, I was going to have to either bite the
bullet or go home before I was completely worthless.
I barely noticed when I was passed to Henry, and then to Chris, who tickled me until I’d woken up slightly.
“You look ready to drop.”
“I am,” I admitted, “I’ve hardly slept. I’m either too awake or get woken up by nightmares.” The same recurring nightmare. It was still no clearer for being so frequent. “I think I should go.”
“Can I have your last dance before you go?”
The voice behind me rushed through me like poison, paralysing me in Chris’ grasp. Now the moment had arrived, I didn’t know that I’d survive it. But my feet were rooted to the ground, leaving me open for my dance to be taken by Blaze.
He smelled divine and collected up me in his warm familiar embrace. His arms were indeed thicker, and his body solid beneath his suit.
Lamely, I said, “You’ve been working out,” resisting the urge to nestle into him. Whether I wanted to or not, my loyalties laid with Calloway, though it was possible to avoid that chemistry and animal attraction. “You look good, Lundy.”
“Really?” His eyes beat down at me with searing heat. “Because I feel like shit.”
“Ah, God.” I battled to get away from him but he held me firmly, like he was too afraid to let me go again. “I don’t need your fucking guilt trip.”
“I’m not... that’s not what I’m...” Blaze rested his cheek on my head, stroking a hand up and down my back. I hated that it soothed me. “Don’t feel bad, Emmeline. We needed this. I needed to see the consequences of my actions and you... well, just look at you. I thought it was just that I hadn’t seen you for so long but no, you really have gotten more beautiful.”
Jesus. My chest was so tight it was physically impossible to breath well. He spoke like others had; like our separation was a necessary but temporary event. But I didn’t have even half of the inner strength it would have taken to be with him now. I’d changed too much.