It no longer mattered that Shannon had danced with Bastian, because now she was the one who looked like a fool. I was the one he wanted to dance with. I was the one who truly knew him. I was the one who had a real relationship with him, even if it wasn’t quite what they all thought it was. Bastian was currently wearing a smile – a real smile – which was something that I knew the vast majority of the people there had never seen on him before. And that was because of me. Shannon could do what she wanted. I was the one with the real power.
And now, everyone knew it.
By the time the song was coming to an end, we had the attention of the entire room, and almost every face watching us had at the very least an amused grin or smile playing on it. Every face but Shannon’s, that is, which glared at the floor in front of her as her cheeks flushed from cream to pink to red.
Bastian finished our dance by twirling me into a playful dip, igniting a round of enthusiastic applause, intermixed with the occasional hoot, whistle, and finally, a tinkling shower of metal clinking on glass. I glanced around and realized that many of the onlookers were tapping their drinking glasses with a spoon or whatever other bit of metal they had at their disposal, and anyone who has ever attended a wedding knew exactly what that meant.
“I’m not sure if it was part of your plan,” Bastian said as he brought me up slowly, “but I think we may have to–”
Before he even had a chance to finish I took the side of his face in my hand… and I kissed him. He reciprocated immediately of course, pulling me against him, and inciting a fresh wave of applause and reaction from the crowd. We held there for an extended moment, and let me just say, as far as kisses went…
…God, was it weird.
Not that anyone else could tell as we were both acting the part brilliantly, but if it came down to it, I think I would have been more comfortable kissing Ryland.
Awkwardness aside, there was something else grating at me as we released one another and walked back to our seats on the couch. It was the same feeling I had a few days before in the library when I’d felt bad about having to bail on Alex to leaf though books. The pull in my chest, the lead in my stomach… it was guilt.
“Are you all right?” Bastian asked from my side.
“I’m good,” I replied, taking a few deep breaths which helped the discomfort in my chest to ease. “Sorry about…” I gestured to the dance floor, “you know, that,” I finished, sheepishly.
“Nothing to apologize for,” he said. “In fact, you might be something of a genius. Though I will say,” he lowered his voice, “between the smiling and the kissing, I do feel a bit used.” He winked with a grin. “But if Shannon sulking in the corner over there is any testament, I’d say it worked.”
And she was. She was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, and eyes burning a hole into the chair across from her. I’d really done it, and evil as I knew it was, I loved it! As the last of my discomfort relaxed from my chest, I suddenly had the need to walk, be free, and celebrate.
“I’m going to go get some air for a few minutes,” I told Bastian. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all. In fact, I think I’ll have a drink. Care for anything?”
“No, I’m all right. Be back in a few minutes.”
With a smile and – yeah, I’ll say it – a strut, I walked through the tent, back through the sparkly fog, and into the chilly night, taking a deep breath of the damp fragrant air.
I did it. I really did it. It was over. No more having to deal with Shannon and her crap. No more dreading every gathering, every meal time, and every hallway for fear that she would be there. I was free.
I wandered up the pathway to the manor, enjoying the feel of exoneration, but it wasn’t long before I discovered that my newfound freedom did not include a freedom from nature, and realized that before I went back into the tent, I should probably visit a ladies’ room. Being closer now to the manor than to the tent, I decided just to go back to my room to freshen up in privacy instead of fighting the lines and tight quarters that the tent’s small private facilities would likely have. I made my way inside, finding myself hoping that Chloe would still be there so that I could tell her that I’d taken her advice and won the day. However, when I approached my room I could tell something was wrong.
“I know I said I would take you,” I heard Alex’s voice echo out from the half open door, “but I can’t tonight, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a problem dear,” Chloe replied, her voice heavy with concern, “but I wish you’d tell me what’s the matter.”
“Nothing, I just need to lie…” but he stopped the moment I pushed the door open, his shoulders tensing tightly.
Chloe saw the reaction as well and suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “Tell you what,” she said, glancing between us after a long pause, “I think Steven is still in the back hallway, I can go and meet him on my own. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” she said, then slipped out the door and closed it behind her.
“What…” I looked around, trying to figure out what I’d missed. “What’s going on?” Alex still hadn’t turned to face me, so I came around him and immediately saw that Chloe was right, something was very wrong. His face was tight and his jaw locked, and no matter where I stood, he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. “Hey,” I said, reaching out and holding his upper arm, cringing when he didn’t yield at all under my touch. “What’s wrong?”
He pursed his lips for a second but then glanced away. “I’m tired,” he said, his voice low and sharp. “I need to go to bed.”
He turned to go, but I stepped in his way. “Alex, stop doing this,” I insisted, “tell me what is wrong.” Again he didn’t answer, but when he turned his head I saw the shine of tears on his cheek. Oh my God,
he was crying?
But then I looked closer and saw it wasn’t tears sparkling in his skin… and in his hair… and on his shirt… it was…
Glitter.
The same glitter that was falling from the fog fountain over the only door into and out of the tent.
“Why is there glitter in your hair?” I asked.
Once again he didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. In a blink it all made sense. The way he was acting, the glitter, the pulling in my chest that I had attributed to guilt…
“You were
there
?” I breathed, my eyes narrowing in furious disbelief. “You were
following me
?”
“You’re mad at me?” he countered, looking squarely at me now.
“Yes, I’m mad, you were spying on me!”
“
You kissed him, Becca!
” he yelled.
“So what?”
“
So what?
Are you serious?”
“It was an act, Alex! We were doing what they expected us to do, it didn’t mean anything, how could you possibly not know that?”
“It didn’t look much like an act,” he said. “None of it did. It looked like you were having a pretty good time.”
“I was having a good time, what’s wrong with that? I’m not allowed to have fun unless it’s with you?”
“You know that’s not what I’m saying, having fun isn’t the issue.”
“The issue is that you don’t trust me!”
“Maybe it’s that I do trust you and I shouldn’t!” he gestured sharply out toward the lawn.
“Were you even going to tell me? Did you think I wasn’t going to…?” My face fell and my blood pressure rose as I remembered that tonight hadn’t been the first time I had the “guilty” feeling. “The library,” I growled under my breath. “Tell me that wasn’t you.” He glanced down for a split second, but that was enough. “How many times?” I demanded through clenched teeth. “How many times have you followed me?”
He hesitated, which told me I wasn’t going to like the answer. “A few.”
I was done. I pressed my lips together, locking in the tirade that wanted to spill from them and stormed to my dresser. I looked myself over and when I was happy with what I saw – besides the bright red cheeks – I grabbed my lip gloss, reapplied it, and stuffed it in my pocket.
“What are you doing?” Alex asked.
“I,” I said turning back to him with a glare, “am going back to the party, because it’s where I am supposed to be.”
“Fine!” he said, reaching for the door, his eyes shining brighter than they had a moment ago. “Have fun!”
“I will!” I shot back as he flung the door open. “And don’t you dare follow me!”
But my only reply was the slam of the door.
CHAPTER 27
Madder than I’d been in weeks, I stomped all the way back out to the tent, huffing like a wild stallion.
How dare he not trust me! What had I ever done to give him reason to spy on me like that? OK, yeah, I just kissed a guy, but even if it hadn’t all been an act, that would still only give him reason to spy on me from tonight on, not days before it happened!
Collecting myself only just enough to be seen in public, I made my way back into the tent and over to where Bastian sat waiting for me.
“There you are,” he said, setting down a near empty plate of mini desserts. “I was getting worried.” Then he saw my face. “Or maybe I still should be.”
“It’s nothing,” I grumbled. “Sorry I took so long.”
“Did something happen?”
I sighed, and he slid closer so I wouldn’t have to yell. “I went in to use the bathroom in my room, and Alex was there. We got into a fight.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s been spying on me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, following me around and watching me. Like tonight,” I gestured to the dance floor, “he was here, and saw me kiss you.”
His eyes popped open. “So you’re telling me there’s a black eye in my future.” He nodded. “Great.”
“Not likely,” I grinned. “And anyway, he has no right to be mad!”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” he raised his hands when I threw him a look. “Just saying, I wouldn’t care for it either. But even still, it’s strange that he would get
that
upset about it, knowing about my…” he paused, “situation.”
“Actually, he doesn’t know about it.”
“You didn’t tell him?” He sounded surprised. “Don’t misunderstand, I appreciate the discretion, but you probably should have told him.”
“I was going to, but we really haven’t had a chance to talk the past few days,” I admitted. “Not privately, anyway. But that’s not the point, your situation shouldn’t matter. He should trust me no matter who I’m with. Trusting a person only when there is no possibility that something could happen isn’t trusting them.”
“I suppose that’s true,” he considered.
“And it’s not just tonight,” I told him. “He’s been following me for days. He was even there the day you and I were in the library parlor skimming books for two hours.”
“Really? OK, yeah, that is a bit strange.”
“Right? I mean, if he can’t trust me, then who can he trust?”
He pondered for a second before downing the last of whatever was in his glass. “I hate to take sides,” he said, leaning and putting the empty glass on the table at the end of the couch, “but it does seem like he might be overreacting.”
“Thank you!”
At least someone had my back tonight…
“Either that,” he chuckled, “or your boy has some deep seated abandonment issues.”
He chuckled again at what he thought was a joke, taking the last tiny pastry off his plate and popping it in his mouth. I didn’t hear the next thing he said, nor did I look up when the server walked by and took the empty plate and glass away. I simply sat, starring at nothing as the world around me fell off into the background, replaced by the stabbing echo of two words: abandonment issues.
How could I have been so blind?
Alex had been abandoned by his parents when he was still a little boy. The two people that he inherently believed would always be there left him for dead in an asylum. I knew all this of course, but as ashamed as I was to admit it, it was easy to forget. He was just so well adjusted and happy that it seemed almost impossible for him to have suffered so much as child. But he had suffered, and no matter how content and happy he appeared, I knew that deep down, he had scars.
I should have been the one who understood. The one who was there by his side to offer comfort and reassurance whenever past wounds came back to threaten him. But instead, I got so wrapped up in intrigue, games, and petty pride, that I hadn’t been paying attention. I’d misinterpreted all the signs I’d seen and who knows how many I’d missed altogether. This wasn’t about trust; it was about fear. He was scared…
…and I was an ass.
“Becca?” Bastian called, looking at me as though I might fall over. “Becca, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was only kidding.”
“I know,” I assured him. “It’s not you, I promise. But I need to go.”
“Of course,” he nodded.
Without another word, I stood and left the tent, not bothering to don my air or mask my features. I didn’t care who saw me or what they said. All I cared about was finding Alex and doing whatever it took to fix what I’d done.
I went straight to his room, and when I didn’t sense him in there, I tried both Jocelyn’s and Cormac’s with no luck. I stopped by my own room thinking Chloe might have some idea as to where he might be, but she was gone too, most likely still with Steven. I quickly changed from my party clothes into a long sweatshirt, jeans and comfortable shoes, prepared to search every inch of the manor until I found him, no matter how long it took.
Using every faculty at my disposal, I looked, listened, and sensed my way through the hallways and common areas, praying for anything that would lead me to where he’d gone. He wasn’t in the back hallway, or the any of the upstairs lounges. I couldn’t feel him in the foyer, the library, or the reception room. And there was no trace of anyone in the large empty gallery or the dark and cold sunroom. It wasn’t until I took the hall along the west wall that I felt the brush of his familiar ability calling to mine. I followed its glow until I reached a large double door leading to the west lawn. I looked out through the glass and saw that he was outside, sitting on the wide steps leading down to the grass, almost completely hidden from view behind one of two large pillars that were holding up the balcony above.
I stepped out into the night air and walked up to the pillar, wanting to speak, but with no idea what to say. He had to know I was there but he didn’t look up, so I went over to the single step between the one he was seated on and the stone pillar, and gently slid myself down behind him, one leg on each side. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and leaned into him, resting my cheek against his back.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
I felt him swallow, then tip his head down as his hands slowly came up and held my arms tightly to his chest with a shuddering sigh. I leaned back, taking him with me until my back rested against the stone pillar, and his rested against my stomach. He turned his head, nestling into my upper arm, while he continued to clutch my hands and forearms, clinging to them like a scared child would a stuffed bear. We sat that way for a long while before he finally spoke.
“I trust you,” he said, the hoarseness of his voice tearing at my heart.
“I know you do.”
“You were right, I shouldn’t have followed you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK.”
“I knew it was wrong, and I didn’t do it because I didn’t trust you. You were just…”
“Tell me,” I urged, when he didn’t continue.
He sighed. “You were starting to have so much fun getting to know Bastian, and working on everything with him. And then the engagement and how well you did fitting in with everyone. I know you were doing it because you had to, but you really seemed to be enjoying it too, and…” he paused again, “I started to worry.”
“Why didn’t you just talk to me?”
“Because,” he shrugged against me, “I was embarrassed. I knew I was being insecure. It was my problem, not yours.”
“Except there’s no such thing.”
“I know,” he said, giving my arms a squeeze.
After a minute or two of silence, I felt him open his mouth to say something but then close it again. A moment later he did it again... and then again. I could tell he wanted to say something, but as much as I didn’t want him to hold back, I also didn’t want to seem like I was forcing him.
Fortunately, on the fourth try, the words finally came. “I think about things sometimes. I don’t want to but I can’t help it.” He paused while I waited quietly. “I’ve always known how lucky I am. The kids I grew up with, most of them don’t have what I do. My life at St Brigid’s, all the people there who care about me, the education I’ve gotten and the work I get to do… it’s amazing. And for a long time it was enough – more than enough. More than I ever thought I’d have.” He paused again, swallowing twice before continuing. “But then I met you. And feeling the way I do about you… having what we have… if you were to…” He tried again. “If…” He took a deep breath. “All that other stuff, it isn’t enough anymore. I couldn’t go back.”
“Alex,” I said, blinking away tears as I rested my cheek on the side of his head and aligned my lips with the top of his ear. “I am never,
ever
going to leave you. And if you need me to, I will tell you that every single day for the rest of our lives.” I waited a moment, allowing my words to sink in before I went on. “But, that being said, there is something you need to realize.” He looked back at me over his shoulder, then sat up and pivoted slightly so our shoulders were perpendicular. “I want you to understand,” I said, able to meet his eyes for the first time, “that things are different now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean in you. There is a quote that says, ‘Fate decides who walks into your life, but you decide who you let walk out, who you let stay, and who you refuse to let go.’ I know when your parents left, you didn’t have a choice. You were just a kid, and at the mercy of those bigger than you. But you are in charge now, and you don’t have to let anyone leave you if you don’t want them to.”
“You can’t stop people from leaving.”
“No, probably not,” I admitted, “but you can follow them.” I paused as I watched a thin veil of calm begin to settle over him as he considered what I’d said. “Now, as already stated, there is nothing that will ever make me leave you. But,” I grinned, “let’s just say, for sake of argument, that some aliens show up one day and take over my body.”
“Aliens?” he grinned.
“Why not? If you asked me, I should be the one they look for first. After all, I have access to some pretty mad skills, remember?”
“Right,” he chuckled. “OK, so,” he motioned for me to continue, “aliens take over your body…”
“Yes. If they take over my body, and realize that you are a clever guy and might figure them out, they could force me to leave. And if that were to happen, I need to know that you wouldn’t just let me go.”
“I guess I see your point,” he smiled.
“Nope, not good enough, I want you to say it.” He cocked his brow at me. “I’m not going to be able to sleep at night knowing if aliens show up I’m screwed.” We shared a laugh, but whether he knew it or not, I was serious. Sobering, I took his face in my hand and held his eyes with mine. “Really though. I want to hear you say it. ‘I will always follow you.’”
He studied me for a moment, his grin slipping away. Taking a breath, he slowly repeated the words, the weight on his shoulders visibly lifting with each syllable. “I will always follow you.” When he finished, a smile lit his eyes that made my own misty, and a blink later he had my face between his hands and was kissing me so happily and lovingly that I think I may have actually sighed out loud. “I love you so much,” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine.
“I love you too.”
We held there for a joyously languid moment, until I felt his shoulders shake as he huffed a laugh. “Now if only you could burn away the image of you and Bastian, we’d be good,” he said with a grin.
“Well,” I said with a wry glance. “I do know a guy…”
“Oh sure, that’d be a great conversation.”
“No,” I agreed, “it’d be terrible. But no worries, I think I can take care of it.”
“Oh?”
“I might know a little something about Bastian that may help you out.”
“Which is?”
“The fact that he is bonded as well. To a guy from his school named Justyn.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Told me about it the morning I went to talk to him about Chloe and Steven.”
“That’s incredi–” He stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Wait, you’ve known for how long, and you’re only telling me
now
?”
“I know, I’m sorry. I was going to tell you but I didn’t get the chance, and then our plans got messed up, and then I didn’t see you…” I sighed with an apologetic grimace. “Let’s just say I suck all around on this one.”
“Or,” he suggested, “what do you say we go with we both suck, and agree to talk next time.”
“I can go with that.”
“So,” he said, pulling himself up to his feet, and taking my hand and bringing me up alongside him. “Are you still up for that movie?”
“Hmm,” I hummed suggestively, taking far too long a time fixing the collar of his shirt. “I’m not sure I feel like a movie.”
“Well,” he ran his fingers lightly down my arm, “I suppose we could always find something else to do.”
Sliding his hand around mine, he led me back inside and down the hallway toward the wing with his room. I wasn’t sure I’d ever had such a rollercoaster of a day, but now that it was all over, I had to say that I was proud of us. We’d fought – really fought – for the first time, and odd as it may sound, I was glad. Too many people think that when a couple doesn’t fight that they are strong, but I have never bought that. The question should never be “do you fight,” but “can you fight,” because fights happen, that’s just the way it is. What’s important is how you handle it. The strongest couples aren’t the ones who avoid fighting, but the ones who do fight and are able to grow from it, and come out on the other side with something better than they had before.
I’d always known that nothing would come between Alex and I, but that was just the “what.” Now that I saw that we could handle what problems we did have in a way that only made us stronger, I finally knew the “how.”
We were almost to Alex’s room when we passed by the hallway with Jocelyn’s room, and I noticed Chloe walking along the wall. “Chloe?”
“Hi guys,” she waved, coming to meet us.
“What are you doing out here, someone could see you,” I scolded her.
“I know, but don’t worry, there hasn’t been anyone by and I’ve been very careful.”
“What are you doing down here?” Alex asked.
“Waiting for Steven,” she said, excitement glowing on her face. “He went to ask Jocelyn if he could come to St Brigid’s!”