I let her drag me out of the room. I can feel the eyes of my father's colleagues on my back. God, what the hell was I thinking? He's going to be raging later. I just don't know what came over me. Maybe that's why I'm letting Kiera lead me away. I catch snippets of conversations on the way out, no doubt their talking about us and the way all this must appear to them. These people have known us for most of our lives and a few of them worked with our dad's during our short, ill-fated romance. I don't think I'd be wrong in assuming that they're going to turn this into some story about our relationship. Fantastic.
Kiera pulls me into one of the elevators just outside the entrance to the main ballroom. She waits for the doors to slide shut before hitting the stop button and turning to me. The rage in her eyes has me glad there aren't any sharp objects in here. I get the impression she's very likely to unman me.
"You're pathetic," she snaps. "You're absolutely goddamn pathetic. You've been acting like a child all night. Do you not care that this is a huge deal for your dad?"
I was not expecting that, "Excuse me?"
What right does she have to pull this card on me when it's her date that started that whole spectacle out there? Her chest is heaving with short, sharp breaths; her face flushed an unflattering shade of red. She's got her hands on the hips of that preposterous dress, the shiny burgundy fabric reflects the dim light in here and the gold chains dangling between the plunging neckline on either side of her chest sparkle. I look away.
"You heard me," she huffs. "You've been nothing but rude and nasty to me all night and then you go pick a fight with Connor?" His name on her lips makes my fists clench. "So, what? You leave for a few years and you come back an utter moron? What exactly is your problem?"
"I don't have a problem," I inform her. Adopting an intentionally droll tone, "In case you didn't notice it was your little boy toy that attacked me out there."
"Boy toy?" her eyebrows fly up disappearing behind the tendrils of hair she's left framing her face. "What's that supposed to mean?" she yells
She sounds offended. Good. She should be. The absolute audacity of her to come here. With him. Wearing that! As if she's not the whole reason that I can't have a normal relationship anymore. As if it's not entirely her fault that I can't be open and vulnerable with people in that way anymore. And then she shows up here and throws her perfect new relationship in my face.
"You know exactly what it means," I'm yelling now too. "What exactly were you trying to accomplish bringing him here. Did you just want to rub my nose in the fact that you found someone better?" I fling my arms out in an agitated gesture.
Her eyes widen comically, "You have no right to say that to me! You have a girlfriend. You're the one who left, you're the one who moved on and then came back to taunt me with how little I actually meant to you. You literally told me and everyone we know that I'm a mistake you wouldn't make again. If you're mad about Connor, I have every right to be mad about Anne." I snort. Sure, she's going to use the barely there relationship between Anne and I to defend her actions. Always the victim this one.
"Just forget it." I say, making to move past her to the exit. She steps in front of me. Raising her hand as if to lay it against my chest to stop my approach. She hesitates, then as if she thinks better of it let's her hand fall limply to her side.
"Can we just behave like mature adults for two seconds?" she asks. Something in me snaps. I want to hurt her as much as she's hurt me. I want her gone. I want to be free of her.
"You want to talk about being mature?" I ask and she tenses. She hears the change in my voice, I can see the apprehension cloud her eyes. "Well, why don't you be a mature adult and leave me and my family the hell alone?"
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" her expression turns incredulous. Her cheeks getting impossibly redder, almost as red as her dress.
"It has everything to do with this." I say. I hear the volume of my voice rising, I'm powerless to stop it. I don't understand what exactly I'm doing right now but I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. It's like word vomit; it just comes tumbling out of me. Every nasty thought I've ever had about her, every petty thing I've stopped myself from saying.
"You're like a cancer, everything you touch gets destroyed. And now you've latched yourself onto my family like a bloody parasite. Can't you see your sucking the life out of them?" she just stares at me. I used to love the fact that I could always read her every expression in her eyes like reading words off a page. Right now, I wish I couldn't because I see every blow land. I don't know what's wrong with me. I know she's never tried to hurt my family and that she's always loved them and they love her. But in this moment I want her to hurt.
"You broke my heart and chased me halfway across the world; you take up so much of dad's time I've barely even seen him interact with Zia since I've been back. Emma's twenty-two. Do you even know when was the last time she let herself have fun and just be a kid? Huh? They've all given up so much for you. You've basically bulldozed your way into their lives and now you refuse to leave. You're such a goddamn burden!"
She stumbles back a step as if I've physically reached out and smacked her across the face. And in that moment it's like I've had a bucket of ice water dropped on my head. What did I just do? What did I just say? No no no, I squeeze my eyes shut so I don't have to see the pain falsh across her face. She's never been particularly good at hiding how she feels and right now that's the thing I hate most about her.
The teal of her eyes looks so much more green lined with tears and when she responds there's a shakiness to her voice that makes my heart plummet straight into my stomach. The air tastes like acid. "You have every right to feel that way," she says, raising her hand to stop me from interrupting. I'm not even sure what I want to say. Maybe I'll apologize; maybe I'll beg her to forgive me. I don't know, I just know that I've gone too far. Way too far.
"I understand," she gives a little nod. "But tonight isn't about me. Or you, or even our relationship. It's about your father. He just achieved a career making milestone, he's worked all his life for this and we're ruining his special night by making this about you and me. So, can we please just get through this without another incident and when all this is over I'll leave. If it's what you truly want, I'll wlak out of all of your lives. You have every right to ask that of me and I'll respect your decision if you do." What? No. That's not what I need; I want to scream at her. "I'll walk away; I'll stay away from your family if that's what you want. This whole mess is my fault and I can accept responsibility for that. I can do at least that much for you. After everything that's happened between us, I owe you at least that much." There's guilt shinning in her eyes, I can tell that's she chewing on the inside of her cheek the way she does when she's trying now to cry. And then, she turns away from me. Pressing furiously at the buttons to get the doors to open, the gesture is almost frantic. That's how much she wants to get away from me.
God, I'm a monster.
"Kiera," I begin. Softening my voice and reaching out for her. I'm not sure why I do it; I just know that I need to make this right. She raises her hand to stop me. She's still standing with her back to me. It's almost like she can't stand the thought of looking at me. I don't blame her. When she speaks I hear the cracks in her voice and each one of them feels like a physical blow to the head. I did that.
"I can't do this with you right now, Dastan."