Chapter 22
twenty-two
. . .
Acquiesce
Twelve years ago
desiree
Eighteen years old
It wasn’t until college that Taven and I saw each other again in person.
Through the rest of high school, I was stuck waiting for times that I could hear from him from a friend’s phone, but that routine got old quickly. We’d talk over backup social media accounts, chatting for hours sometimes, then other times, go days and weeks in between. Sure, he could have come to pick me up if he wanted. I could sneak out again and we could just drive around. We had at one point made tentative plans to do so, but I think we both felt that there was something nice in just talking to one another again. A friendship, like it had been at the beginning. It felt more comforting than in the agony of the intensity of our feelings for one another, far more intense when we were actually in the same room .
After our respective high school graduations, me graduating top of my class, we both headed to Philly. I had just started a pre-med program, and he was going for a bachelor’s in history, much to his parents’ dismay, I’m sure.
Yes, we had strategically planned to get out of town together.
The decision to move to Philly together started as a joke, at first. We had talked about the potential schools we’d attend, but never did I think he’d actually choose based on where I was going.
The first two years of college, however, he once again had a girlfriend. He was almost sheepish when he told me about the girl he had met through a freshman orientation for his program.
It’s not that we had stated explicitly that we planned to go to college and be together romantically, exactly. We didn’t consider ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend during the last months of high school, though the undercurrents of flirtation were always there when we talked. But it’s hard to date someone you never see, can barely talk to since his parents monitored every little thing Taven did. I figured he had been seeing other girls while we were still in school. He never told me about anyone, though, so I imagined it was never anything serious.
Still, I had in my silly na?veté expected that once we got to Philly, we’d pick up where we left off. When he first saw me, he gave me an awkward hug, then mumbled out that his new girlfriend and I better get along better than Evelyn and I had.
Well played, Vin, I thought. Well played.
I was heartbroken, yes. Here I thought we’d finally be doing this thing, be a real couple for once, and apparently he just saw me as a friend. I relished in the wounded spirit that I was, sickeningly enjoying the tragedy of romance within my tormented soul.
I dated here and there, but not much. My heart belonged to Taven, always. Like I had done before with Evelyn, I figured I’d wait until the time was right. At least his new girlfriend wasn’t nearly as exotically pretty as Evelyn and her red hair, and I had a sick satisfaction in knowing that. She was a plain Jane, much like me. Whereas Taven was the life of every party, his new girlfriend ( Christine was her name), was the shy sidekick quietly standing by. I felt surprisingly unthreatened by her.
I was in the beg, barter, and steal phase of my crush. The emotional bargaining of taking what I could get. For me, that meant stolen moments with Taven where there was always a charge to them. There was a sly happiness I had in that. We had even kissed again at one point—okay, more than one point—but one of us always stopped it. “But Christine,” we’d say, like we were oh-so-virtuous in remembering the sweet girl who had stars in her eyes every time she looked at Taven.
“Christine,” I’d say one final time, breath panting and victorious at the bulge popping out of Taven’s jeans for me. “She’s good for you,” I would add.
“And I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” he would say, me nodding as if that made the most sense. Sure, our friendship.
I’d look at him and wonder why he wouldn’t just make it official, this obvious thing between us. We were so good together, obviously felt something so strong that had started back when we were mere kids. Couldn’t he see that?
And then understanding would settle into me, as it always did. A bitter truth I hated to admit.
That it was complicated.
That our families were enemies, and there was no escaping that, as much as we loved to pretend it didn’t matter.
In the end of the day, I could never bring him home and announce with any enthusiasm the great love of my life, back in my orbit yet again. I had a feeling my mom would eventually be able to accept, but my father never would. He would spit on the Carlisles if given the chance, probably worse. The Carlisle name was never to be spoken in our home.
And Taven couldn’t bring the disgraced name of Hatson into his home either—the daughter of parents his own family had solidly severed ties with. Looked down upon. A useful tool to them for a moment, perhaps, but now beneath them. It would be asking a lot from both of us to try and ever make a relationship work, one that wasn’t plagued by necessary secrecy.
I also knew of Taven’s struggles with making his family proud. He was eternally trying to live up to the expectations of his parents. My heart hurt for him and that struggle, and the thought of actually claiming me as his once again would not help the matters of his precarious relationship with the great Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle. I tried to respect his need to stay on his parents’ side, painful as it was. When you’re in love with a prince, you’re bound to be trampled on by the rules of the monarchy.
So I’d look up at Taven’s full lips, swollen from sneaking kisses to mine, and I’d know that this was the way it would have to be. There were no other options. I’d convinced myself that this could be enough.
I’d take what I could get, the ultimate emotional trade of any time with him in exchange for my constantly crushed heart.