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Authors: Shanice Williams

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32. A FLOODGATE FINALLY OPENS
Kane
 

I
felt . . .
Hopeless
.

And, as I sat there, in the pale decrepit lunchroom, I felt a bit angry, too, watching Suranne on the other side of the room talking with Lawrence. I know I should really be thanking him. He had, after all, been the one supporting her for the past three weeks.

Three weeks.

Christ, what was wrong with me?

It felt like the days had just whizzed past. Like it was only yesterday that Suranne had stood before me, her shoulders slumped and eyes defeated asking me to say those three important words to her that I just couldn’t force out of my mouth.

But it wasn’t. It was three goddamn weeks ago, and like the pussy that I am, I had left her alone, not calling, not texting, not talking to her at all.

But once nighttime came, it was a different story. I would drive past her house, lingering for a few moments. I would alternate between staring at my cell on my lap and up at her window, just telling myself to
call
her already. Tell her I love her, and then hopefully kiss those damn lips that I missed so much.

But I didn’t.

Another thing I did as the days went on was think. A lot. Constantly questioning myself on the whys, whens, and wheres.

Why
couldn’t I just tell her? Did it mean that I didn’t actually feel something for her after all?

When
was it going to just . . . come to me? When was I going to have that life-changing epiphany when I nod and say the damn words out loud, knowing that I meant them?

And if it was going to happen,
where
would it be? Where would I take Suranne to tell her?

I could tell she was hurting, and it killed me to watch her every day hunched over defensively as if she were preparing for some attack. She just looked so weak, and knowing that, for some screwed up reason, there was nothing I could say or do drove me just about insane. I missed her like crazy; the littlest things would remind me of her. Of her laugh, or her smile, or the smell of her skin and hair, or the taste of her lips.

I gave a tight smile to Alex as he sat down with his tray of food, eyeing me curiously as to why I didn’t have anything to eat. I shrugged in response. Eating was the last thing on my mind these days.

“So, you thought about this party tomorrow night? We need you back man . . . That shit’ll be off the hook!” Alex crowed around his mouthfuls of food and I grimaced as bits of pizza flew out when he spoke.

“Jeez, can you
not
talk when you’re eating? That shit is disgusting. I don’t care to have some nasty-ass bit of cheese hit my face,” I replied sharply, glaring at him for a second before returning my eyes to her.

She wasn’t eating either. I could see Lawrence saying something to her and she shrugged in response.

“And no,” I said, focusing back on Alex and his gross eating habits, “I’m not going to the damn party.”

The last thing I needed were different bitches around me, all feeling up on my shit when I had already gone three weeks without any form of action. As much as I hated the thought of being with someone else other than my girl, I didn’t wanna push my boundaries.

I’m still a man, and when under the influence of alcohol, having some chick’s tight ass flaunted in front of you can just about make you forget all the other shit going on in your life.

It was bad enough how, since people had noticed Suranne and me no longer hanging around together, that shit had started going back to the way it used to be—chicks greeting me left, right, and center, giving me knowing looks and winks as they passed by. They might as well put signs on their chests saying “Do me.”

Alex shrugged and followed the direction of my gaze, looking over his shoulder and focusing on Suranne. I heard him chuckle and as he looked back at me, his eyes alight with amusement.

“What?” I snapped, frowning at him and wondering what the hell he found so funny.

He held up his hands defensively and laughed again. “Nothin’ man.” With that he picked up his tray and left, calling out to a couple of blonde chicks and jogging after them. I watched him throw both his arms over their shoulders as they walked out and sighed, shaking my head before focusing back on her.

This had become my daily routine. Apart from the one lesson we had together every Friday, lunchtimes were the only time I could actually catch a glance of her. For some reason, I never managed to see her in the hallways anymore.

So every lunch period I just sat. Sat, and stared. Stared and longed. Longed and felt my chest restrict painfully. Got angry with myself, and eventually stormed off.

When I saw Lawrence lean closer and speak softly to her, a pang of jealousy and anger surged through every vein and artery in my body. My muscles seemed to stiffen and coil, ready to attack. But then, for the first time in the three weeks I’d been watching her trudge through the days, a smile formed on her lips, and a gentle laugh escaped her.

I immediately felt my face soften as I watched her; my body relaxed back into my chair as the sound of her subtle laughter caused warmth to ignite in me.

“Wow,” I heard someone let out a slow whistle, “Why couldn’t you love me like that?”

I snapped my head in the direction of the voice and cocked an eyebrow when I saw Kate standing there with an amused expression on her face.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, shocked my question hadn’t come out more sharply.

She smirked and pulled up the empty chair, twisting it around and straddling it backwards with her arms leaning on the back. “What I mean is,” she started, pointing a finger at me, “the whole damn time you were with me, you
never
looked at me the way you just looked at her.” She finished with a point over her shoulder. I followed the direction of her thumb and temporarily got lost in the vision of my girl. I sighed wistfully and focused back on Kate, and she laughed lightly.

“What the
hell
is so funny? You’re the second person to laugh like that,” I snapped at her, irritated that people seemed to be enjoying my misfortune.

Kate cocked an eyebrow at me and tilted her head slightly. “It’s funny,
asshole
, because Kane Richards is in love.”

I shook my head at her words; if I was in love then I’d be able to say the damn words already.

“I’m not in love,” I mumbled, shifting my gaze back to Suranne. “If I were I’d tell her.”

“So tell her,” Kate shrugged simply, and I looked at her in shock.

“Don’t you think I’ve
tried
? And why are you telling me this shit anyway? I thought you hated my ass.”

She laughed. Again.

“Believe me, I do. But, this isn’t about me, and, as much as people think I also hate Suranne, I really don’t. I can
see
she loves you, just like I did. But there’s a difference here, Kane,” she sighed and rested her chin on her arms.

“Which
is
?”

“This time around, you actually love her back. I could see it in the way you looked at her, even if it was for like a second. I can still see it, and trust me, I know love when I see it,” she replied calmly.

I returned my stare to Suranne. I felt that longing, that small, tiny bubble in my chest that was growing with every second and threatening to burst. But it wasn’t like before; it was stronger, too powerful for me to handle and after a while, I had to look away, because that feeling scared the shit out of me.

All too soon I felt trapped, consumed, and completely ensnared by Suranne’s presence. It was difficult to breathe. I shot out of my chair and rushed towards the exit not slowing my pace till I pushed open the double doors to the parking lot.

The cool air wrapped around me and freed the tingly tightening in my chest; its presence dissipated with every deep breath I took. I walked over to my car and leaned against the passenger door, holding my head in my hands and closing my eyes.

“You’re frightened.”

I jumped at the voice and snapped my head up.

“Christ,
Kate, don’t you ever give it a
rest
?” I sneered. I hated being snuck up on, and she knew that shit. She just smirked again and shook her head.

Bitch.

“You’re frightened. That’s why you won’t tell her, and that’s why, for some godforsaken reason, you just ran out of the cafeteria like a coward.” She snickered and I glared at her, clenching my jaw.

“Go to hell,” I spat defensively.

She shrugged and looked up at me, smiling. I didn’t see any spitefulness in her green eyes, which shocked me. I only saw warmth.

“Why did I stay with you for all that time?” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head to myself.

She laughed and sighed. “Sometimes I wonder the same thing. But . . . I’d like to think we had some good times?” She looked up at me questioningly, a small smile on her lips.

I chuckled and nodded, “Yeah . . . that we did.”

“Tell her, Kane.” Her face abruptly became serious. “I waited for you to say it to me for years. Don’t make her wait that long.”

“When did you become . . . ” I waved my hand at her, “this?”

“What?”

“This . . . understanding and all. I think I preferred you when you were showering me with hatred.”

She laughed softly and sighed again. “I’m tired, Kane. It was three years ago. I just want to move on.” She shrugged and smiled up at me before shifting her weight on her feet and fiddling with her hands. She took a deep breath and looked up, her eyes wide with remorse, and something close to regret.

“I’m sorry I left you the way I did. I should have been more understanding. I think I was just . . . too selfish at the time.” She spoke softly, almost a whisper, and I just stood there gaping at her.

That was the first time she had ever apologized to me over our past relationship.

I told her it was alright, and just like that, the bitterness between us was gone. I thought I had gotten over all that bullshit, but it wasn’t until she actually said those words that I felt it slip away. It was like a weight that I’d had no clue about had suddenly been lifted, leaving a calm, breezy peacefulness in its wake. We weren’t quite friends, and I wasn’t sure we ever would be, but it was OK. We just . . . were.

She filled me in on the past three years of her life, about her family, and her brother who I used to hate. I told her about Ashley, how she’d progressed and how, every once in a while she used to ask about her. Kate smiled a huge smile at that one, and asked me what I used to say.

“I told her I never cared, of course.” I smirked at her, and she punched me in the arm. “Screw you,” she muttered, but she was still smiling.

The bell rang signaling the end of class and the double doors burst open as every student rushed to get the hell out of there and begin their weekend. I noticed Lawrence come out and stand by his car; I clenched my jaw when I realized he was waiting for her.

And then there she was. I audibly let out a breath as soon as I saw her, that tiny tingly bubble growing inside me again. I saw her look around the lot and I wondered if she was looking for me. The bubble within me swelled at the thought, and the warmth that was surging through every fiber of my body was becoming almost too much to handle. I was panting, desperately trying to catch my breath and calm the hell down. Every time I tried to push it away, it just got stronger and stronger, the tingles turning into buzzing, humming electricity as I followed her every movement.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I panted breathlessly, clutching my chest but unable to tear my eyes away from her.

“I
told
you.You
love
her,” Kate murmured. Her words sunk into my brain and seeped into my veins; they rattled against my head and bounced on my tongue, just like they had when I was desperate to tell her before, but this time, my lips actually parted.


I love her
,” I blurted out breathlessly, my eyes still fixed on Suranne as her eyes darted around the lot everywhere but in my direction.

“I love her, I actually
love
her,” I whispered in awe. I could feel myself grinning from ear to ear as I heard myself say the words out loud.

Finally.

“I know, who woulda thought, huh?” Kate replied dryly. “Kane Richards, pussy whipped.” She shook her head in mock disbelief and I laughed loudly in response; my whole being felt light, almost weightless and carefree. I couldn’t stop smiling and when I looked down at Kate, she was smiling along with me.

I grinned down at her and hugged her, because I was damn well sure that if she hadn’t come up to me, if she hadn’t laid herself out on the table and pushed me to understand, I wouldn’t be standing here, with the huge grin on my damn face, feeling hopelessly in love.

She chuckled but hugged me back, squeezing me tightly.

“Thank you,” I murmured over her shoulder, my heart racing and the bubble in my chest still threatening to burst, but this time I didn’t care.

Because this time I knew I wasn’t going to try and push it away. This time I was going to embrace it, and tell my girl that I loved her over and over again.

And this time, I knew that I would mean it.

33. WHO'S LOVING YOU
Suranne
 

M
y brain hurt.

Along with every other part of my body. I swear my muscles were sore from crying. The image of Kane’s face, so happy and elated and the love I saw in his eyes was constantly rewinding in my head. My eyes were so puffy that I could hardly see and I had the hiccups.
Great
. By the time evening came around, it had started to rain. Hard. 

I lay on my bed, numb and exhausted, watching the rain smash against my window, blurring the glass into a dark, slimy mirage. Every inhalation brought pain, and exhalation left me aching. 

As my room grew darker, the deathly red glow of my alarm clock brightened and burned the time in my peripheral vision: 7:05 p.m.

Without permission my mind wondered what
He
was doing. Images of him and that bloody crooked grin, his face alight with happiness and his eyes burning . . . Burning with that look as he wrapped his arms around Kate.

Was he with her?

I closed my eyes tightly, shaking my head against the scratchy material of my pillow, and tried to think of something else.

A knock on my bedroom door startled me, and I jumped, coughing out a raspy greeting. It was my aunt, of course.

She glanced at me, trying not to stare at the pitiful mess I had become and cautiously treaded into my room, placing herself at the end of my bed. 

“Joe called,” she murmured, her voice temporarily drowning out the constant pounding of the rain.

I nodded in response. Joe was her partner/boss, and I knew that whenever he called, it basically meant an evening on my own whilst my aunt went to the office. I had a growing suspicion that they were doing more than just working, but she wasn’t sharing any info.

“I’m not sure I want to leave you alone the entire night, but it would seem silly for me to make the long journey back home in the middle of the night just to go back to work in the morning.” She seemed nervous, almost worried as to whether her excuse was plausible. I couldn't help the small smile as I continued staring at the window. 

“It's OK. I'll be fine. Promise.” I sighed and closed my eyes, grimacing at the burning sensation behind my eyelids.

“Honey, I don't know what's going on right now, but I'm worried. I need to know if you are really going to be OK.”

I turned my head to face her and opened my eyes, only to be met with the same blue-grey eyes that my mum had. The resemblance was almost calming, as if I could see my mum through her, and her loving concern made me give a teary smile. A part of me was sad at being truly alone for tonight, but I couldn’t keep her here just to comfort me.

“I'll be OK, I promise,” I reassured her, and she nodded, taking my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I made some chicken pasta for you. It’s in the oven. I
want
it
eaten
, Suranne. You hear me?” I nodded and smiled as she lifted herself from my bed and slipped out. I continued to sit, staring at the window as the constant drum of the rain carried through my ears. After a few minutes I heard the front door close, followed by the gentle thrum of my aunt’s car. The tyres scratched against the gravel and the sound of the engine carried off into the distance then disappeared altogether.

Silence. 

It was silent. And I was alone.

I took a deep, painful breath, then let it out in a long aching exhale. I got up from my bed and put my hair up in a messy bun, deciding to have a shower. I walked into the hallway and grabbed a towel from the airing cupboard, revelling in its fluffy warmth before padding back towards my room.

Just before I closed the bathroom door I could have sworn I heard a car pull up my drive, but I took no notice, shaking my head and thinking it was my imagination. I placed the towel on the side and reached to turn on the shower but stopped when a gentle tapping resounded from downstairs. I frowned, going completely still and listening again. If it was my aunt she could just let herself in, unless she’d forgotten her keys.

The tapping started again, louder this time and I left the bathroom, trudging down the stairs convinced that she had forgotten her keys. With a sigh, I opened the door only to be greeted by the person I least expected.

Kane stood outside my porch, the rain beating down on him vigorously, his sweatshirt clinging to every muscle and dent on his chest, his hair glistening with raindrops, his eyes dark and deep, boring into mine with such an intensity my knees felt weak.

“Kane,” I breathed, my voice thick with surprise “W—what are you . . . ?” I couldn't finish the sentence. I was too breathless.

He ran his hand through his dripping hair and sighed, a few raindrops falling off his thick red lips.

“I can't . . . we both know that whenever I speak, I just . . . mess it up, so . . .” his voice was low and deep and I revelled in the sound that had been missing from my ears for so long. Too long. 

I couldn't speak yet. I could hardly breathe, and my eyes were impossibly wide, greedily drinking in the exquisite sight of a wet Kane Richards. I could almost feel his warmth, and my body was shrieking to be touched by him, my heart hammering in my chest. 

I was still speechless and he sighed again, fumbling in his jeans pocket for something whilst muttering a few curses under his breath.

“Just . . . I just, was wondering . . . I know I need to . . .
Damn
,” he said exasperated at himself. I couldn't help but breathe a laugh at his discomfort. He snapped his head up to look at me, and I saw his face relax and his eyes warm as he listened to my light chuckle before he blinked and seemed to focus again.

“Umm . . . I know that, uh . . .” He sighed and shook his head, thrusting a crumpled, sopping wet card in my hands. I turned it over and read the smudged address on it, frowning in confusion.

“Suranne,” Kane murmured, stepping closer as rain continued to drop from his hair and lips. He brought his shaky hands up to cup my face and a sigh escaped my lips at his touch. My eyes closed briefly, not ever wanting him to leave. His scent, coupled with the steam from the rain, swirled around me and took the breath from my lungs.

“Meet me here,” he breathed gently, his face a few inches from mine. “Please? Just . . . meet me here, tonight.”

I opened my eyes and glanced down at the dripping card but didn't recognise the address. I sighed and closed my eyes again. It seemed that I was always following Kane wherever he wanted me to; I was always going to him.

I knew I always would.

“OK,” I whispered and I heard him breathe out a huge sigh of relief.

“Really?” he asked, his eyes wide with excitement, a lopsided grin on his face.

I nodded and gave a weak smile in return.

“Thank you,” he breathed and closed his eyes before turning away and jogging back to his car. I watched him drive off in disbelief. Now that his presence was gone I couldn't help but feel angry. Angry that I had agreed to see him so quickly and hadn't asked him about Kate. Angry that whenever I was around him my body reacted in crazy and frightening ways.

Angry that, even though I was
angry
, I was going to meet him, regardless.

I frowned down at the card; he hadn't told me when to meet him, but I smiled when I saw a faded and smudged
9 p.m.
written in blue ink on the back.

I took a deep breath and turned around, closing the door.

I really needed that shower.

***

I clasped my hands tightly together as I sat in the back of the taxi; my nerves were taut, stretched as far as they would go. I was frustrated that Kane hadn't given me any details. I didn't know whether to dress casual or smart, so I’d opted for a mixture of both. I was wearing black trousers and a white button down-shirt that reached midthigh, and a thick, black fitted belt at the waist. I put my hair up but left a few strands curled around my shoulder and neck and wore simple hoop earrings and minimal makeup. 

I watched the traffic through the window until it became a blurry mixture of colours and as we pulled up to the building, my heart beat wildly in my chest.

The building was . . . 
Huge

I wondered if it was a hotel of some sort; if so, it must be one of those really flashy ones with eighteen floors and exquisite furniture. 

I paid and thanked the taxi driver, walked into the building, and stood in the foyer uncomfortably. As I busily drank in my surroundings, I heard a throat clearing behind me and turned around to the intoxication of Kane's cologne. It wrapped around me and sank in deeply as I breathed. I let my gaze drift over him and felt my body react instantly. His upper body was leaning against the wall, he was holding a black suit jacket over his shoulder with one hand, and his other was in his dark jeans pocket. He was wearing a crisp white button-down shirt.
And was that a black tie hanging loosely around his neck?
His hair was neatly spiked at the front and he had his usual stud earring in his ear.

Words seriously couldn't describe how good he looked at that moment in time.

“Hey,” I breathed weakly, my eyes still roaming over his ridiculously magnetic form. Kane gave a warm smile, and pushed himself off the wall, walking slowly towards me. He moved a loose curl that was on my neck behind my ear and focused deeply on my face. 

“Hey,” he replied, his eyes bright with contained excitement. “Come with me.”

He grabbed my hand and led me to a large arched doorway with ornate carvings on the arch and around the edges of the doors.

“We've missed dinner, but we can always get some after. But this . . .” he trailed off and pushed open the door. I gasped in response.

It was a hall of some kind, with dimmed lights and jazz music filling the room, played by a band situated on a large stage. The walls were a gentle shade of red and to the right were various round tables, their white linen cloths glowing from the single candles situated in the center of each one. A few people were seated at the tables, laughing and interacting with each other.

But the main event was happening in the middle of the hall. Couples were dancing, seemingly consumed by the soft music that echoed off the walls and trilled into their ears.

I looked up at Kane with an expression of utter disbelief. He gave me the crooked grin and I felt myself shudder in response.

“What is this place?” I asked quietly as my eyes followed the people mingling and swaying on the dance floor.

“The building itself,” Kane started whilst moving me forward with his hand on the small of my back, “is my father’s.” I saw him nod his head to a few people as we walked past. I smiled at them politely.

“And this . . . ” He gestured to the dance floor, “this is the annual ball. It used to be held in November on my dad's request, but when he died, they changed it to the end of April, in remembrance of his death.”

I felt my jaw go slack at his words, shocked and a little bit touched that so many people would attend an event in remembrance of someone. I suppose it made sense, if this was Kane's father’s building. These people must have been his colleagues.

Kane looked down at me and gave me a sad smile. “We used to go every year when my Dad was alive, but when he died, we just . . . couldn't. This is the first time I've been here in three years.” He sighed and shook his head regretfully. “He was a great guy.”

I smiled up at him warmly and lightly touched his arm. “I wish I could have met him. From the looks of it, he was very popular,” I said, once again looking around at the hall filled with laughter and gentle music.

Kane chuckled and nodded at me. “He was too popular for his own good. He had chicks digging him from left, right, and centre,” he laughed.

“Like father, like son,” I muttered dryly as Kane led me to the middle of the hall. I felt myself grimace as images of him hugging Kate came back to me. Kane sighed and looked down at me.

“Yeah . . . you're right. Like father, like son,” he confirmed and I glared at him, not finding his comment funny, but he just smirked and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Because,” he ducked his head down to whisper in my ear, “although he had women wanting him from every direction, his heart belonged to someone else completely, Suranne. And that someone for me . . . is you.”

He unbuttoned my coat and pushed it off my shoulders and I gazed up at him breathlessly. I saw his eyes darken as my skintight shirt was exposed, and he threw the coat, along with his suit jacket, on the nearest chair, then wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. 

My head was spinning from confusion, but as I started to question him, the music died down and the main singer grabbed the mic.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Once again, welcome to the Daniel Richards Thirteenth Annual Ball. We suggest you grab ahold of that one person you love right now and don't let them go throughout the duration of our next song. Hope you enjoy and we wish you a great evening.”

I looked up at Kane and smiled as the song started playing through the large speakers. I watched as his chocolate-brown eyes glimmered in the dimmed lights and candles as he gazed warmly down at me. He held on to me more tightly and kissed my forehead, whispering there, “Listen to the lyrics, Suranne.”

As the introduction to the song wound down, the man standing on the stage started singing deeply into the mic:


When I . . . Had you, I treated you bad, and wrong, my dear.

The backup singers harmonised his words, along with the bass player, and I closed my eyes as Kane started to sway us gently to the song, which I recognised.


And girl, since . . . Since you've went away, don't you know I . .  Sit around . . . With my head, hanging down, and I wonder . . . Who's loving you,

I rested my head against his chest and he placed his chin atop of it as we swayed softly from side to side. I felt lost to the music, completely blocking out the other couples filling the hall around us. My chest constricted painfully as the song carried on:


I . . .  I . . . I . . . I should have never . . . ever . . . ever made you cry, and girl since . . . Since you've been gone, don't you know I . . . sit around, with my head . . . hanging down. And I wonder . . . Who's loving you.

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