16. Kendall
Kendall
But I don’t know how to not love you.
I close the door behind Kai, white knuckling the knob and leaning against it for support.
I keep replaying the conversation we just had.
Today went infinitely better than I thought it would.
So why am I not relieved, overjoyed? All the feelings for him I’ve tried to keep tucked away and just out of reach come rushing back in full force.
Guilt and grief, love and hope. Complete adoration for this man I once thought I would marry.
When he wasn’t a part of our lives, I could keep him at arm’s length.
From a distance, he was merely someone I used to love.
Even if I was lying to myself. But seeing him twice in two weeks, having him in my house is something else entirely.
I can’t fight the eventuality of him, of us any longer.
I can’t pretend that all my regrets are isolated to me and Akio anymore.
Watching Kai with him was almost too much to bear—I can’t believe I have been depriving them both of a relationship with each other for so long.
And for what, to protect myself? Because I was too scared of what the truth might do to us?
What good had it accomplished except make us both miserable?
If the guilt alone wasn’t enough, the tension and chemistry between us is palpable, electric—threatening to take down all the walls I had carefully constructed around Akio and I.
But I don’t know how to not love you.
I feel the throbbing pain of a cluster headache starting to take shape and begin massaging my temple. Realizing I need reinforcements, I pry open the fridge and pour myself a large glass of Rose. Sweet, buzzing relief hits me in minutes.
Just as the wine starts to warm me up from the inside out, I get an incoming text from him. I doubt he’s even home yet.
I miss you both already
My heart.
My poor, stupid, defenseless heart that has always belonged to him.
I don’t stand a chance.