Connor leaves to get our coats and comes back in no-time at all. Or maybe, I just zoned out and didn't notice the time passing. I can't be sure of anything right now. There's a type of urgency to his movements that makes me think I probably look like some kind of wounded puppy. He doesn't say anything more to me; just leads me out the back entrance to the ballroom. There's staff buzzing by here, some of them start at our approach; probably to tell us we can't be here but they stop short with one look at me. Right, so it's a lot worse than I thought.
It's cold outside; Connor drapes my coat over my shoulders. I turn to tell him thank you and lock eyes with Dastan. He's standing near the wall to our right watching us. He looks disheveled. His jackets been unfastened, he's removed his tie. It's wrapped around the fingers of his left hand and the first two buttons of his black dress shirt have been undone. I can see more of that mysterious new tattoo. It looks like it might extend down from the top of his collar bone to his chest, it's some kind of tribal design I don't quite understand. His hair looks as if he's been running his hands through it and his eyes are lined with red. A small breath escapes him as he sees me, I read the conflict plain as day in his raven eyes. They're completely open and unguarded for the first time since he got back.
The irony of it isn't lost on me. I turn away and let Connor lead me to his car. It's different than the one he drove last time. For one thing, I immediately recognize this one; it's a Porsche. Black as midnight, sleek and lethal. Apparently, Connor has more than one expensive sports car; I file that information away for another time. He opens the door for me and I slide into the seat, I recognize the smell from the last time; the smoky, lushness of it. That scent; its Connor. For some reason it helps steel my nerves. I feel calmer safely tucked away in his car where I know nothing can reach me.
He drives slower this time; I can only describe it as cruising. The roads aren't exactly empty, it's late but there are still one or two cars on the street. There are people walking from one bar to the next; teenagers shouting across the street at each other. It's still far more peaceful than the regular chaos of the city. I find I quite enjoy it. Or maybe I just enjoy being in this moment with Connor. He doesn't say anything. There's no music on and I prefer it that way. I turn away and lay my head against the cool glass of the window, after a while I feel Connor glance at me and I turn my eyes on him. There are questions in his pewter gaze, I don't know how long he can hold those back but I really don't want to talk right now.
I reach out and lay my hand over his on the gear shift, he follows the movement and then he's looks at me again. There's only one question now. "Thank you for tonight," I tell him, my voice is hoarse. It's the first thing I've said since my conversation with Dastan. "I'm sorry for ruining it but you were amazing." I offer him my best approximation of a smile. I think he gets the idea because he smiles softly at me too. Then he maneuvers our hands on the gear shift so his large one covers my much smaller one. He slots his fingers through mine and tightens his grip. It's a simple gesture; he's offering me physical comfort. I never want him to let go. I like it, it's just so Connor. Simple and reassuring.
He adjusts himself in the seat so he leans toward me and I do the same, we just keep our hands there and he occasionally applies more pressure to change the gear. I stare at our joined hands and I think about how easy it would be to fall for Connor. But that wouldn't be fair to him. He doesn't know everything he's getting himself into. It would be selfish. I should tell him not to get involved with me but the thought of giving up this moment churns like tar in the pit of my stomach.
It takes me a while to realize that he isn't driving me home, he's just driving around the city. He takes random turns as they come up. I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He's lost in thought, not paying attention to anything. He looks far away. I wonder how he's doing that and still focusing on driving but the car doesn't so much as swerve so I guess there must be a way. I study his profile for a second longer before shutting my eyes.
I need to fix this disaster and I think I know exactly where to start. The only way to make all of this better is to fix myself. Dastan's right, I am the problem. I'm too dependent on my friends; I spent too much time expecting them to save me. But I'm not some helpless damsel in distress and I've let them cast me in that role for far too long. I survived, dammit, I survived but I haven't been living ever since. It's high time that changed. I won't give Dastan a reason to see me as a burden to his family anymore. I won't give Zia the heartache Emma and I know all too well. And I won't steal Emma's life from her, not anymore.
"You wanna tell me what happened back there?" Connor's voice interrupts my thoughts. My eyes fly open to find him watching me; he turns back to the road then. His voice is kind, gentle. He doesn't sound upset but I know he wouldn't be wrong even if he was. I sigh a great big defeated sound. I guess it's time to go back to reality. I shift in my seat and go to move my hand out from under his. He tightens his grip, my eyes shoot up to his profile. He's smirking when he meets my stare. Okay…
"It's complicated," I say. Wow, way to offer up the most thorough observation dumbass. I clear my throat, my voice still sounds scratchy, "You've probably noticed Dastan and I have history." A muscle in his jaw tightens, I focus my eyes on that rather than attempt to read whatever his reaction is going to be to what I have to say.
"This isn't usually something I bring up on the first date," if this doesn't send him running for the hills it'll be a miracle. "We've known each other basically our whole lives. He's just always been there; our fathers were best friends-"
"Were?"
"Were," I nod in acknowledgement. God that wound aches significantly more tonight. Especially, after I overheard Haider's conversation. "My family's dead." It sounds horrible, blunt and unemotional but it's the best way I can think to do this. I don't want him to pity me or to think I'm using that as an excuse for what happened tonight.
"All of them?" he asks, turning to me now. I don't raise my eyes from his jaw but now I'm staring at his chin. He's got a scar here too, similar to the one on his eyebrow; he's so pale I never noticed it before. I just nod, and he gives my hand a brief squeeze and focuses on the road again, waiting for me to go on.
"The Haider family really stepped in to fill that role," I continue, this is harder to talk about than I thought. Is that even really what happened or did Haider step in because he felt guilty for going behind dad's back right before he died. I remember how adamant he was in trying to convince me he wasn't moving in on dad's position or being opportunistic. I didn't think that at the time but right now I wonder. "Dastan and I were already…" I hesitate, "involved by then. But after it all happened I wasn't myself and I ended things."
"And what? He never moved on?" There's anger in his voice now. I deserve anger. He's been way too considerate all night, this reaction I understand.
"No," I respond, "He moved away, didn't come back for three years. I'm pretty sure he moved on." Connor raises an eyebrow like he doesn't see it. "But he despises me now."
"He's a dick," that startles a laugh out of me. Connor seems pleased by my reaction.
"Not really, I was pretty horrible when things ended," I say. I'm not defending Dastan but his anger is definitely justified. "I knew he wouldn't walk away unless I absolutely broke him. So, that's what I did." I shrug, "I made myself the villain in his eyes, and I don't get to be upset when he treats me like it." I hate that this is what it's come to. There was a time when I'd be with Dastan after having a night like this. Even before we were together, I'd always go to him to make me feel better. He always knew the right thing to say to make everything feel okay, but I guess that works both ways. He also knows exactly what to say to make everything fall apart. That's the price I have to pay for showing him my heart, now he knows how to break it.
"So, now he's treating you like crap?" Connor surmises. That's actually pretty accurate. "You don't deserve that." He says. Oh, Connor. Why do you have to be so perfect? I open my mouth to object and he cuts me off, "I don't care what you did to him. You don't deserve to be treated that way." His voice takes on an edge, "I watched you try so hard all night to be decent to him and he threw it all back in your face and just because he doesn't love you anymore doesn't mean it's okay for him to disrespect you."
"Maybe," I agree hesitantly, "but that doesn't change anything, and it doesn't matter." I force myself to look at him now, he's started to pay attention to the road but we're still driving without any real destination. "I'm sorry for what happened tonight," the words taste bitter on my tongue. I hate having to do this but he took all of this in stride like a champ. I know I've probably blown it but I'd at least like for us to be friends. "I should've warned you about what you were walking into, granted, I didn't expect it to get quite so out of hand but I'm truly sorry I put you in that position."
"What exactly are you apologizing for right now?" He says and his tone is sharp, disapproving. And here we go.
"For the way everything went down tonight. You didn't deserve to walk into that blindly and I shouldn't even have invited you to be honest, that was irresponsible." There I said it, whatever his reaction is, I can take it.
He surprises me by laughing; I raise my eyebrows at him. I don't see what's funny. "You didn't invite me," he reminds me. Well, that's true but I still went along with it. "Haider invited me, plus it's his son that ruined my night. So, if anyone should apologize it's him." He offers me a cheeky grin, I clamp down on my lips to stop myself from responding to that. It's almost impossible. His smile is contagious. No. This is a serious conversation. He isn't deterred by my lack of response, "Besides, it's definitely the most interesting first date I've ever had."
Can this man take anything seriously? "Connor," I say incredulously, "I'm trying to tell you I don't think it's a good idea for us to keep doing whatever this is." I make a motion with my free hand between our bodies.
Well that worked, the smile falls off his face. "Why not?" He's joking right? What kind of drugs is he on? I'm doing him a favor here, giving him an out so he doesn't have to do that uncomfortable 'we probably shouldn't see each other again' thing that's always so awkward even though both people are on the same page.
"I'm not in a good space right now, and I'm not good at relationships." I say. That was kind of presumptuous, what makes you think he even wants a relationship with you, you total nut job? I race to pull myself out of the hole I've just dug, "I'm not a good person and I come with far more baggage than is fair to ask you to deal with. You shouldn't have to deal with a selfish, immature little girl who's always playing the victim." It's a bitter pill to swallow but this is necessary.
He takes a moment to respond. His thumb rubs a slow soothing rhythm on the side of my hand. It's distracting. "Who told you that?" He asks, keeping his eyes on the road and I suddenly want him to look at me. I want to know every thought that crosses his mind in this moment. "Dastan?" and then he's looking at me and the car seems so much smaller than before.
His graphite eyes are serious, reverent. "I don't care about whatever baggage you come with, and I think I'm the only one who gets to decide what I deserve to deal with." Alright, I'm convinced I've officially lost my mind and completely hallucinated Connor because he's far too perfect to be a real person. "If you don't want a relationship that's fine." He continues, "I don't like labels either but I'd really like to see you again. Preferably without your ex being there." He gives me a lopsided grin. I'm staring and I can't stop. I know he's waiting for a response but my brain isn't capable of forming coherent thoughts right now. I give him a stilted nod instead that seems to satisfy him. He goes back to driving and I spend the rest of the drive thinking maybe things won't be so bad after all.