Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
avery
Exile – Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)
We’re sitting at the table, the soft sounds of metal against glass filling the space around us as dinner is served.
Elena opted for a shorter dinner this time, with just one main course.
I try to eat my food slowly, but my hunger is obvious after the long day I’ve had.
I forgot lunch when things got away from me.
I glance at Kane out of the corner of my eye, his food barely touched. He’s pushed things around his plate with his fork, but it’s a stark contrast to my already half-eaten meal. I take a sip of my water and set it down when I see Kane turn his body toward mine.
Since the showdown with his father by the gardens, Kane has been quiet.
As usual, he’s working some small problem out in his head instead of talking to me.
I try to tamp down the hurt and understand how he might be feeling.
I try to be grateful he wanted me here at all.
I know I can’t force him to talk to me, but I thought we were making some progress.
Maybe not quite ready to fix our relationship, but maybe ready to be friends. A way to co-exist in the same space.
I was shocked when Kane agreed to this charade.
He isn’t all that close with his parents, but I thought it would be something he told them.
So when he admitted what happened, my heart leaped.
A small kindling of hope started in my chest and stayed there all week.
It had me reaching for my phone so many times to ask him why he never told them.
That hope fades the longer we sit in this silence.
Kane turns toward me, and I arch a brow at him as I take another bite.
The perfectly cooked, juicy chicken melts in my mouth, an embarrassing moan working its way up my throat.
A small chuckle leaves Kane, making his whole body move as he reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear, his hand lingering as his fingers glide through the strands.
“Did you eat today?” he asks, his smile soft, his body completely turned toward me and his knees wide enough to trap my entire chair between them.
The warm light from the candles and the lamps outside illuminates the side of his face by the table.
I shake my head as I finish my bite, and he lets out another chuckle.
I’m sure that has him remembering all the times he’s had to remind me.
A chill races up my spine as the temperature drops further in the night.
The moon now crests in the sky while the last rays of the sun peek over the horizon.
He looks at me and signals a waiter, asking them to bring one of the heaters closer.
Warmth suddenly presses at my back as he runs his palm up and down my arm, which breaks out in goosebumps for an entirely different reason.
I’m hesitant to break the moment between us, but I clear my throat and implore, “Are you okay?”
He looks away into the darkness on the other side of the house, his jaw tightening as his hands return to his lap. A sudden boyish expression moves across his face, his brown eyes sad as he shrugs at me.
“Just another family dinner,” he replies, a mask of indifference on his face.
The sad eyes of a lonely boy stare back at me.
His parents are down at the opposite side of the table, laughing along to something someone next to them said.
An act of PDA is on full display as his father holds his mother’s hand over their dishes.
Kane looks at them and sighs before returning his gaze to me.
“You can talk to me. You don’t have to pretend this doesn’t bother you. I don’t know what your dad meant, but—” I begin, hoping to get him to open up to me.
“No,” he scoffs, cutting me off.
Hurt lashes across me at the dismissal.
“It doesn’t matter.” His jaw clenches and his fingers flex with tension. His silver rings gleam under the warm light as he twists one around his finger, the restlessness evident in his shaking foot.
I try to pry a little harder. I reach over and place my hand on his knee to still its movement, causing him to look up at me as I inquire softly, “It’s clearly not nothing if you’re upset.”
“I said nothing is wrong, Avery,” he says, effectively dismissing me again. I pull my hand back and place my napkin on the table, then stand and take off toward the house, the hurt of his denial to talk about it coursing through me.
Silly me. How could I forget that we aren’t even together, and he no longer owes me to talk about his problems? Not that he ever did before this.
But there were moments today when I saw Kane. My Kane. The sweet boy I fell in love with.
My Kane, who talked, joked, and laughed with me.
That ember of hope is thoroughly crushed as I make my way through the living room, searching for the powder room in the hallway.
I hear footsteps behind me, but I ignore them, uninterested in small talk.
I almost reach the bathroom when I’m pulled back by my wrist and turn to face Kane.
Shock courses through me at the sight of him, out of breath and standing behind me.
“Avery, stop,” he begs. He lets my wrist go as he drags in a few deep breaths.
“What Kane? I need a minute. I’m not interested in what you had going on back there,” I bark, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m—” He drags his hands roughly through his hair and pulls at the strands.
“You’re what? Not going to talk about it? Yeah, I got that.” I turn, attempting to make my way to the bathroom, but Kane takes my hand and pulls me after him. I follow begrudgingly to the end of the hallway and up a back staircase that opens right to his childhood bedroom.
The room I practically lived in during our high school days. My body sighs in defeat as I let him haul me through the doorway and close the door behind us.
A wave of nostalgia hits me with the force of all the memories spent inside this room.
The nights we spent studying together, playing rounds of PlayStation, and the night he took my virginity.
I take in the scene around me. Everything is perfectly in place, just as it was the last time we were here.
His bed is made with a dark blue bedspread, and the photos above the desk across the room mark our final year.
Marcus and Kane playing football in one photo, the championship trophy they won for our school in the next, and his old boutonniere, dried up from our prom together.
A small smile touches my face as I stare.
“Avery, I do want to talk. I just… What am I supposed to say?” Kane says wearily, defeat written across his face as he leans back against the door. His head hits the wood, and his body sags against it.
I take a few steps and sit on the bed across from him, my heels out in front of me as I stare at them and wait for him to continue. He stands up straight and looks at me until I make eye contact again.
“I’m angry with them. I’m still fucking angry.
It’s been how many years, and nothing changes.
It’s party after party, them putting on a show for everyone they know, yet when do I hear from them?
When do they show an interest in my life?
I’m not doing what they want, so I’m iced out, banished to the end of the table.
They’ve known you for how many years, and the way he dismisses you like that pisses me off. ”
He spits the words out, hands raking through his hair as he starts pacing back and forth in front of me.
“And the constant talk of the ‘family business.’ It was never my dream. No matter what my father says. They want me to get married, did you know that? They want me to marry whoever my father thinks will benefit the family best while I learn to take over. But no, I go to a normal college, graduate, and take a job that fulfills me. I pick you, and it’s still not good enough. ”
He all but yells the last part into the room.
“The calls have gotten worse too. Calls to remind me what a disappointment I am, that I’m selfish and ungrateful, that everything I’ve been given and for what he claims. I’m wasting it away,” he finishes coming to sit beside me on the bed, flinging himself back.
He lies next to me, his arm over his eyes, trying to catch his breath.
Shock courses through me as his words repeat in my head. “I… I didn’t know all of this had been going on. For how long?” I ask softly as I watch the rise and fall of his chest.
He peeks one eye out from under his arm, his gaze piercing me.
“When hasn’t it been going on?” He sits up and puts his back against the headboard.
“The marriage stuff? Recently. It’s why I never told them when we…
when it happened. Me being a disappointment?
I don’t know. Since birth, maybe,” he confesses.
“You’re not a disappointment,” I chastise as I turn my body to face him, the slit of my dress sliding dangerously high on my thigh. I watch his eyes track the movement and darken as they linger there.
“Should we go ask him?” Kane asks as he sits forward and makes his way to the side of the bed next to me. His shirt is wrinkled a bit, his suit jacket gone and still hanging on the back of his chair downstairs.
“I don’t need to,” I protest as Kane gets off the bed. My body turns to track his movements when he kneels in front of me, his big form folding so he’s eye to eye with me.
His hands come up and rest on either side of the bed next to me, barricading me in. A darker expression streaks across his face as he snares me with his eyes before they dip to my lips and slowly make their way back up.
“You don’t need to. Why is that?” he asks, his voice husky and dark.