Chapter Twelve
DELAYING IS ONLY GOING to make things worse.
I actually learned that two years ago, when I nearly worried myself to death wondering if I should or shouldn't make the first move with Kazeyuki.
Spoiler alert: I compromised with a half-move, which was letting him know (well, okay, everyone in the hospital also knew) that I was kinda sorta into him, but never quite putting it in words?
Honestly, I'm not sure that half-first-step helped me in any way.
But what I do know now is that I'm delaying things again, and—
"Here we are, mademoiselle."
We're in a jewelry shop, the fanciest in the city, the kind of place that doesn't have prices on anything because if you have to ask, you don't belong here.
The carpet is cream and so thick my heels disappear into it.
The walls are paneled in soft, hushed wood that absorbs sound, and the lighting is so flattering even the security guards look like they could be in a cologne ad.
The manager, silver-haired, very formal, very French in every way that I sometimes have to pretend I understand what he's saying, has just presented a tray of his shop's most beautiful rings.
I think by that he means most expensive, too, but anyway, they are beautiful.
Each and every one of them. A couple are diamonds, but surprisingly, there are other stones, too.
Rubies. Sapphires. Emeralds. Amethysts. Pearls. Even a black pearl.
The tray is lined with deep navy velvet, and the lights overhead catch every facet, sending little pulses of color across the glass counter, and on any other day I'd be losing my mind.
I'd be taking mental photos of every single one.
I'd be drafting an Instagram caption already (when bae proposed I had no idea he'd take me to, heart eyes, ring emoji, a tasteful number of sparkles), and—
"Does anything catch your eye?"
"Anything..." Nothing.
Because I can't stop thinking the same thing again.
It was Emily's list, not mine.
Kazeyuki gazes at me curiously. "You don't have any preference?"
Why should I? How can I? What's the point of having a preference when I can't stop thinking...
I think he was pressured.
And no, no, no.
The moment the thought crystallizes in my mind, the tears start falling—
"Katherine?"
I can't seem to stop crying.
"I'm s-sorry." I try drawing big gulps of breath to get myself back under control, but it's not working. Nothing seems to be working, and I don't think...I don't think anything will work to make me stop thinking. And believing that—
He was pressured.
By me.
Being an idiot.
Like always.
"Katherine?"
The concern in Kaz's voice only has me crying harder.
It's great that we're the only customers here, but we still have witnesses in the shop's staff, and I can feel the sales associates gazing at me oddly.
The guys don't seem to have caught on, but the girls know.
They're standing very still behind the far counter, and they think I'm so ungrateful and undeserving because they can totally tell I'm not crying happy tears, and I wish I could tell them—
It's not that at all—
I think he was pressured.
—because it's the opposite.
"Is it Matt?"
The tears fall faster even as I find myself nodding. I'm lying to Kaz. The man I love.
I think he was pressured.
But I have no choice.
Kazeyuki wipes my tears and kisses the top of my head. "It's alright," he says softly. "I'll take care of it."
His gentleness breaks my heart. He's always so, so gentle, and maybe that's why...
He was pressured?
I can't seem to get the words out of my mind, and it's giving me an out-of-body experience as I listen to Kazeyuki talk to the manager, the manager talk to us, and then somehow we're back inside his limo, the jewelry shop fading out of view behind us.
The partition between us and the chauffeur is up. The leather is cool against the backs of my legs. The city slides past the tinted glass like a movie someone else is watching, and Kaz is sitting beside me without touching me, and the silence in here is too big.
"Can you...can you drop me home first?"
"Of course."
It's great that Kazeyuki agrees without hesitation, but what's not so great is when I realize ten minutes later that 'home' now is his home because Emily's already terminated my lease.
"Kaz?"
"Hmm?"
"Remember the granola bars you left for me?"
That's one of my most treasured memories of him. The dark chocolate and sea salt ones.
"Do you mean the ones Nurse Prasida asked me to give you?"
But as it turns out, even that memory of his is also a lie.
“What about it?”
“I just...remembered, that’s all.”
It’s the closest thing to the truth that I can come up with. Because unlike someone here, I’m not good at lying, and I just...
God. Oh God.
I’m so, so tempted to ask him other questions, hoping that at least one of them would show that not everything I thought to be true about him—about us—is a lie. Surely there has to be at least one thing that’s real, and it would be enough to prove to myself that I’m wrong—
I think he was pressured.
But in the end...I just couldn’t speak. Couldn’t bear taking the risk of asking. Because a part of me is already starting to spiral into the truth, and all I want right now is to keep it together.
Just don't think.
Don't think.
We arrive at his apartment, and already I can feel Kazeyuki starting to notice that something's wrong when he helps me out of the backseat, and I can't...
I can't make myself hold his hand. Can't make myself even meet his gaze.
"T-Thank you. I'm s-sorry. I just...I'm sorry. I-I can go up on my own—"
"I know."
Oh, that gentle, gentle voice.
"But humor me on this, please."
That gentleness of his is making it so much harder to not lose my mind.
Don't speak.
I find myself frantically saying these words over and over as we step inside the elevator.
Don't think.
The elevator doors open to his penthouse, and Kaz steps out first.
"Katherine?"
Just don't.
And for one crazy moment, I'm so, so tempted to just slam my hand on the Close button, get myself to the lobby, and then run.
I'll just run and run and run until there's no way for the truth to catch up, and I can learn to pretend I never knew the truth—
I think he was pressured.
"Is something wrong?"
And that's when I feel it.
His fingers curling around my wrist, and the warmth and gentleness of his touch sweet and familiar, and I think...that's what breaks me. That he's warm and gentle like always, but this time, oh God—
This time, I can no longer be selfish.
Can no longer let myself be an idiot forever.
And so the moment he touches me—
The moment he turns me around to face him, the words come tumbling out—
"W-When did you fall in love with me, Dr. Collington?"
It shocks the both of us when I end up calling him that, and I can see his gaze narrowing, his genius mind starting to put things together—
"Katherine."
And there you go.
His voice. No longer gentle. No longer...composed. His voice is hoarse, and that's when things stop falling apart, and things start coming to an end, and I just...I can't bear it.
I'm yanking my wrist out of his hold, and I'm backing away from him because I need space, I need distance—
"I...l-leapt to the wrong conclusion, didn't I?"
Now that I'm about to set both of us free with the truth.
"That's why this whole time, you...you looked as if you've been hiding something from me."
Dr. Collington, he's still gorgeous.
"Because the truth is—"
Broodingly, heartbreakingly gorgeous actually, even when he's lost all color—
"You were never really in love with me...were you?"