Chapter 55
I hop off our gondola where it’s stopped outside Sogno with Domino and Journey in tow. Music pumps from the building, and dozens of people mill around, waiting for friends, talking, and downing sips from passed-around bottles before they head inside.
The building rises three stories, with large rectangular windows fronted by wide sweeping balconies filled with dancing people. The white marble exterior is ornately carved with flowers, vines, and leaves, while lights flash inside, illuminating the night with bursts of transparent color.
We run up to the bouncer, who gives us a once-over before waving us in.
The decor evokes the sensation of dreaming, with sleek white floors, walls, and fluffy white clouds suspended from the ceiling. People wearing white underwear and translucent gossamer scraps sport feathered wings and weave through the crowd with crystal drink trays propped on their hands.
At the far end of the room is a giant mirror, bordered by more carved marble and covered in dozens of glass shelves, holding a hundred different types of jewel-toned liquors. The long crystal bar stretches across the room, where a line of muscled, half-naked men mix drinks.
Domino squeezes my arm and squeals with delight; her excitement is infectious. This is exactly what I needed—no more hiding and moping in my room. The point of going to Amery was to enjoy being young before the responsibilities of adulthood weighed us down.
“Drinks first!” Journey announces, taking my hand and dragging me into the crowd. Domino grasps my other side, and we weave through the gaps, approaching the bar. A cute bartender spies us and winks as he approaches.
“What will it be, ladies?” he asks, flashing us a bright grin.
“Something yummy!” Journey announces, and he nods before he begins picking up various bottles and dumping ingredients into a golden shaker. We all enjoy the view of his shirtless torso as his muscles bunch and contract while he moves.
When he’s done, he pours three pale pink cocktails into cut glass tumblers and garnishes each with a puff of cotton candy. “A Sweet Dream,” he says, passing the drinks over.
We toast and take a sip. It’s sweet and light, and I can already tell I could drink a lot of these before I feel the effects. But I don’t care. I’m tired of being responsible and worried about everything, and I want to let go for one night.
“Time to dance!” I shout, and we head for the floor, where we lose ourselves in the sea of people. Over the next hour, we spend our time singing to the music and swaying with the crowd.
At some point, I spot Knox with Jackson and Sal, along with Winter and some other members of their friend group. Knox and I haven’t spoken in months, not since the night of the pledging ceremony, when my parents publicly dropped me from their lives.
He stands with an elbow on the bar, drinking a beer, a scowl on his face. Winter is next to him, looking uncertain and obviously trying to draw him into conversation. He scans the crowd, and I feel the moment he spots me. Our eyes meet, and it’s like I’ve just been shoved against a hard corner.
Suddenly, I don’t feel very well.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I shout to Domino, who nods. Then I turn in the opposite direction of Knox, weaving toward a hallway. I enter the bathroom to a haze of perfume and conversation, where a dozen girls sit on the plush settees while touching up their makeup and hair.
I head to a sink and inspect my face before wetting a towel and pressing it to my reddened cheeks.
Then I find an empty spot and sit, trying to shake off the remnants of Knox’s presence.
I hate that he affects me at all. I want to be free of this.
Don a cloak of indifference and shield myself from every moment of hurt he caused.
Maybe someday I’ll get there.
When I’ve stopped shaking and cooled down a few degrees, I decide the night is young and Knox isn’t ruining my fun.
Unfortunately, when I open the door, he’s waiting in the hall.
I wordlessly study him as he unfolds himself from where he’s leaning.
“Hey, can we talk?” he asks, gesturing to a room with low tables and couches. When I hesitate, he adds, “Just for a minute. Please.”
I don’t want to go anywhere with him, but if I don’t, he’ll probably just bother me until I agree. So I nod and follow him into the quieter space. The floor vibrates with thumping music, but we can talk without having to shout.
We find a table and settle side by side on a white couch that runs along the wall. A waitress appears, and I order another drink, because something tells me I’ll need one for this conversation. In fact, I consider ordering two.
When she leaves, I turn to study Knox’s profile. He’s staring at the room with one arm slung over the bench and his jaw tight.
“So?” I ask, hoping to get this over with. “What’s up?”
He glances at me. “How are you doing?”
I shrug and shake my head. “I’m okay. It’s been rough, but I’m managing.”
His eyes flick over me before he returns to surveying the room.
“Knox, is there something you want? I really need to get back to my friends.”
“Your friends?” he asks. “Do you have friends in Aria?”
His tone isn’t pointed but rather curious, yet I bristle at the question regardless. “I do.”
“Cogs,” he says, somewhat dismissively.
“Aria Society members,” I say. “They’ve pledged. They’re one of us now.”
He sighs and slouches on the couch, his hips sliding forward. “Whatever.”
Again, he remains silent, and this is starting to become annoying. The waitress arrives with our drinks, and I pick mine up and take a sip. “Okay, well, if that’s it, then I’m gonna get going.”
“Do you miss me?” he asks suddenly. “Do you miss what we had at all?”
The question stops me in my tracks. I study his face. He can’t be serious. But he holds still, clearly waiting for an answer. “What did we have, Knox? An agreement on paper? Me as your little trophy wife while you fucked around?”
His face darkens. “I . . .”
“Why did you do it?” I ask. “Why did you insist on humiliating me?”
“I don’t know,” he answers as a wounded look passes over his face. “I don’t know why I did it.”
It’s such a painfully inadequate answer, but I think he’s telling the truth in his own pathetic way. He doesn’t understand himself, either.
“Okay, well, as long as you have no idea why you decided to hurt me over and over. No, I don’t miss you or what we had. We didn’t have anything to miss.”
Again, I try to leave, but he stops me, wrapping a hand around my wrist. His touch is like oil, coating me in sludge. “Touch me again, and I’ll scream,” I say. Quickly, he releases me. “What’s going on? Winter not living up to your expectations?”
“I don’t want Winter,” he says. “I never wanted Winter.”
I scoff. “Not to marry, you mean. But to fuck while you were engaged to me. Then you wanted her, right?”
He has the grace to look guilty, at least.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I fucked everything up. It was all so much pressure.”
“What pressure?”
“My dad’s expectations of me. The way he assumes I’ll be just like him, but I’m not like him at all.” He shakes his head. “Fuck. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” Then he adds, “He’s replacing me.”
“What?” I ask.
“Your dad found someone else to groom as the future scion of Fiama. And my dad agreed it’s for the best. Said after everything that happened with us, I haven’t proven my character or some bullshit like that.”
“What about their alliance?”
“Still intact,” Knox says. “They’re stronger than ever. It just no longer has anything to do with me.”
“Oh,” I say.
He looks away, staring at a distant spot. I sigh and shake my head.
“I understand he expected a lot from you,” I say. “My dad expected a lot from me, too.”
Knox looks over, studying me. “I know.”
“None of it gave you the right to treat me that way.”
“I know that, too,” he says, then adds, “I think I did it because I never would have been good enough for you, Poet.”
He sits forward, sighing in obvious frustration.
I’m stunned, frozen in my seat as I wait for him to continue.
“I loved . . . I love you. I always have, but you’re so damn perfect.
You think I didn’t know you could do better than me?
The only reason you were stuck with me was because of our fathers, and I was just . . .”
He trails off, and I have no idea how to react.
“You were just what?”
He shrugs, though the movement feels forced. “Just a consolation prize, I guess. You had to settle.”
“And?” I ask. “You decided to treat me like shit for that?”
“I know it’s fucked up, but I thought I’d keep the upper hand. That I could convince you I was too good for you instead.”
I exhale a breath of disbelief. “Oh, that’s great, Knox.”
“It didn’t work,” he says, somewhat miserably, and I take a long drink from my glass, hoping the alcohol will burn away this memory forever.
I’ll need a swimming pool full of this shit at this rate.
“You’re still too good for me, but I still love you, Poet, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s any way you can forgive me. ”
I take another pull of my cocktail and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, smearing it with pink lipstick.
“You’re absolutely right. I am too good for you.
” I stand up, clutching my glass. “You have no idea what love actually is, Knox. And I can’t believe you have the nerve to sit there and ask for forgiveness after everything you put me through. ”
He holds up his hands. “Please, what can I—”
I don’t let him finish, merely upend the rest of my drink onto his head. He jumps as ice, booze, and sticky strawberry juice drip down his face. “What the hell, Poet?”
“There is nothing you can do,” I say through clenched teeth. “Not one single thing you could ever say or do to make up for how much you’ve hurt me.”
I glare as he wipes his face, taking one last look before I turn and walk away.
Entering the dance floor, I press a hand to my chest, willing my racing heart to settle. Domino spots me, and I shake it off. I don’t want to talk about it, so I plaster a smile on my face.
I hold up a finger, telling her I’ll be there in a moment, then head for the bar, where I order some water before joining my friends and losing myself in the lights and noise for the next several hours.