13
KIERA
"I can't believe he acted like that. What was he even thinking? And why am I so mad?" I mutter to myself, my frustration mounting with every step across the room.
I can’t tell if I’m more offended that he insinuated that Mr. Richards was hitting on me, or the way he acted following those assumptions.
“That’s ridiculous.”
The guy was just trying to make a friendly conversation. Besides, his taste in art is unique. It’s probably not every day he can talk about Brugghen.
Every step I take feels like a ticking time bomb, my thoughts bouncing off the walls of my mind. I don’t even know why I’m having such an intense reaction or why we even started fighting in the first place.
When I cannot hold it in anymore, I beeline for the door.
I need to talk to him, shake some sense into him.
I yank the door open and… there he is, standing right outside my door. He’s so close that I almost run face-first into him, and I have to skid to a halt to not barrel right into him.
The scent of fresh pastries wafts through the air, and for a moment, my anger wavers as confusion takes its place.
He offers a small, conciliatory smile, holding out the bag of pastries along with a bottle of wine, while his other arm nurses two glasses. "I thought you might be hungry. Figured some French treats might help."
“Is that a bribe?” I hope he can’t hear my stomach groan.
Did he go out to get me the pastries and wine?
“Maybe,” he says. “Did it work.”
When I don’t say anything, he says, "Can we please talk?"
I nod, reluctantly stepping back into my room, and he follows suit.
The room feels small, the air thick with unresolved tension.
I cross my arms, waiting for him to make the first move.
Jake runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that contradicts his usual composed demeanor. "I know things got heated back there. I didn't mean to upset you."
"I know, but it still stung."
He sighs, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting mine again. "I'm not good at this, Kiera. Opening up, explaining myself. But I want to make things right."
My anger softens, replaced by a sense of weariness. "Then start talking, Jake. What was that all about?"
He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I guess I just got a little defensive back there. I know it shouldn’t have happened.”
“But why?”
He gives me a strange look. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Not to me.”
He gives me a painful smile. “Can we at least eat?”
“Are you trying to change the topic?”
“I swear I’m not,” he says. “But I’m really hungry, and I think you are, too.”
Jake breaks the silence by pouring wine into the two glasses.
I watch him, the play of emotions on his face a mystery to unravel.
He hands me a glass, and we retreat to the balcony. The night air is cool against my skin as we settle into a comfortable silence, sipping our wine.
The sprawling garden looks beautiful under the night sky.
“Why did you bring up the past yesterday?”
Jake practically freezes. “I was being an ass.”
I shake my head. “No, you need to be honest with me, Jake. I know how we left things back then. You broke my heart and—”
He shakes his head. “No, Kiera. You don’t understand.” He sighs. “Look. I never blamed you for how we left things.
But I want to make things right in whatever way we can. I didn't mean to hurt you back there. Please believe me. That was always the furthest thing from my mind.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to dissipate. "What happened broke me," I say, my voice barely a whisper.
“I have been trying to maintain my professionalism and not cross a line, knowing or unknowingly.”
“You haven’t been inappropriate with me.” Does he think there’s something off between us because we slept together years ago?
“Not that you know of,” he mutters.
My heart flutters in my chest. What’s that supposed to mean?
“It’s difficult when you’re around. I make bad decisions.”
My pulse quickens. I can’t look away from him, drawn to him like a moth to the flame. My brain screams at me to turn away, that it’s a bad decision. But I can’t walk away from him. It’s the same way it was all those years ago at the party. I wasn’t that drunk. I knew exactly what I was doing.
But there’s still a question at the back of my head, something I’ve held on to unanswered.
"Jake, I... I need to know something."
"What is it?"
"Why didn't you tell me the truth about Chris?" I finally voice the question that has haunted me for years.
Jake shifts uncomfortably, his eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t know.”
“Please don’t lie to me.”
He catches my hands in his. “I’m not lying, Kiera. I didn’t know, I swear. Chris mentioned wanting to party and live life a bit before he chained himself to anyone, his words, not mine. As far as I knew, he loved you, so I didn’t think he was serious. It wasn’t until I saw him heading upstairs with the two girls at the party that I realized he was about to cheat on you. And I was too shocked to do anything."
I stare at him. “You didn’t know.”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you that night,” Jake says miserably.
I feel a little shaky, and my feet stumble.
“I knew I should have done something, anything to stop him. I’m sorry I couldn’t,” Jake says.
“What could you have done? Chris was a grown ass man. He should have known better.”
The revelation leaves me grappling with a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.
“I wanted to tell you. I was planning on doing it, coming to see you, but I never got the chance because there you were, and then that happened and all I could think about was…” He shakes his head. “But then you left, and you never let me in again.”
I’m shaking a little. “This isn’t your fault, Jake. None of this.”
I take a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm sorry, Jake. I know I shouldn't have shut you out that night. But I was so hurt. It was too much."
"Kiera," he starts, his voice calm. "We were both different people back then. We've had our share of growing up to do."
A hint of a smile plays on my lips, but it doesn’t stick. "I know, but it doesn't excuse my behavior. I just... I wish I had given you the chance to explain. And we spent so many years apart. Now I come to know it was just a misunderstanding? That it was all for nothing?"
He shakes his head. “I don’t think it was for nothing. Like I said, we were different people then.”
“We were best friends.” I shake my head. “Now we’re strangers.”
He cups my face. “Hey, look at me.”
My lashes flutter slightly as I meet his gaze.
“I never stopped being your friend. I never stopped thinking about you.”
He reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently. "We can't change the past, Kiera. What matters is that we're here now, and we can choose how we move forward."
"Thank you, Jake. But—."
“Is something bothering you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to dig anything ugly.”
Jake shakes his head, cupping my cheek. “Never. You’re here, I am here. Nothing else matters.”
I take a deep breath.
Tears gather at the corner of my eyes.
“Please don’t cry, Kiera.”
He closes the distance between us, and before I can react, he’s pressing his lips to mine and kissing me hard.
The wine glass in my hand falls and shatters, but I don’t care.
I bracket his face with my hands and kiss him back, letting him taste the tempest of my emotions.