Chapter 33
Spencer
T here’s not enough air in this room that’s spinning.
I gasp in short heaves, trying to fill my lungs, but my corset has a strict rule against breathing.
It’s tight tight. Two sizes too small. By some miracle, I was able to get the corset closed, but even the slightest movement and I’ll bust free, ripping priceless couture to shreds.
The dress is heavy with all the crystal embellishments, and barely an hour into this evening, even my bones are aching.
I’m in pain. I can’t breathe. I desperately want to go home. Stupid girl. All because I was too embarrassed to tell Nathan my real size. I’ve been hiding in the corner of the room, praying for time to fast-forward.
I feel awful about this entire evening. Nathan has been every woman’s dream.
He’s been polite, considerate, sexy, and smooth with every gesture.
I, on the other hand, have been a cranky brat.
It seems out of my control. My body is in shock, molded into a silhouette that isn’t mine.
Every time Nathan’s told me I’m stunning, gorgeous, or he can’t wait to tear this dress from my body, I know he’s seeing what we both want me to be.
Not what I really am. Upholding this standard is physically painful.
And yet, I desperately want to be what he wants.
Something’s changed between us since he told me about Elise.
He walks, always half a step in front of me, leading me, guarding me.
Every time Charlie gets more than five feet away from us, his eyes latch on to her like a watchdog.
He entered the ballroom tonight like he was attending with his most prized possessions—his family.
Everything in me wants to cross the line with him. But…
There are consequences to falling in love with a claimed man.
A man tethered to another woman by a tragically everlasting bond.
Is second place good enough for happily ever after?
Am I really content to share him with a beautiful ghost for the rest of my life?
Is Nathan even thinking about forever? I learned the hard way that men transform into exactly what you want when they want something from you.
Clever shifters with a total disregard for the consequences of their actions.
Probably because most of the time, they aren’t the ones paying them.
“You all right?” a voice asks from behind me.
For a moment, I think it’s Nathan, returning from wherever he whisked Charlie off to. Who else would find me in my hiding place?
“You look a little pale.” Casey steps around me to face me. “Need some water?”
“No.” Why is he still haunting me? Didn’t I bury this memory five years ago? Maybe he’s not the ghost I’m running from.
“You look good. Your dress and everything. You look like you’ve lost weight.” Ignorance is truly a peaceful thing. Because the stupid, earnest smile on his face makes it seem like Casey thinks he just complimented me.
“Excuse me,” I grunt out.
With tiny shuffles of my feet, I try to escape, but Casey wraps his mammoth hand around my wrist. “Wait.”
“Let me go,” I bark. But he doesn’t. He tightens his fingers, a look of determination filling his eyes. “You’re hurting me.”
“Nate told me we should work in the meeting rooms downstairs moving forward. He’s basically banished me from his office. Why is that, Spencer? We were cool until he spoke with you. What did you say?”
I successfully rip my arm away, but he only catches my other wrist.
“I need this job. This is my big break.”
“ Let. Me. Go. ”
“Are you insane? You’re going to try to ruin my life again over a stupid crush? Get over it. It was college and everyone was fucking around. I never liked you like that. I almost didn’t graduate because you were so butthurt over it. It’s pathetic that you’re still holding on to a five-year grudge.”
This is my moment. I should slap him. The blind arrogance.
I want to do more. I want to grab the empty glass bottle off the nearest table and strike him across the jaw.
I want to hurt him as badly as he hurt me.
But I have too much to lose. Charlie. Assault is assault.
I can’t do anything except stand here and curse the injustice of the world that my only available weapon is words.
“You’re a monster.”
“No more so than you.”
“How?” I ask indignantly. “What did I ever do to you?”
He finally releases me. I glance down at the red marks around my wrist and know in my soul if these don’t disappear before Nathan returns, Casey is a dead man.
“It was just a prank. Freshman hazing. You blew it out of proportion. You ran to the dean and nearly got me kicked off the team which would’ve let the whole school down. ”
“You were mediocre at best, Casey. Let’s be honest. The team would’ve been fine.”
“You bitch,” he hisses.
We’re interrupted when Julia grabs the microphone and offers her commencement of the event. She must deliver a beautiful speech in support of her cause because everyone is lost in thick applause, but not me and Casey. I’m deadlocked in pure hatred with the man who took my virginity.
I take the opportunity to tell him what I’ve wanted to for five long years. “Know what I did two days after my mother’s funeral?”
Casey’s anger sobers at the mention of my mom’s death. “What?”
“I went to the clinic. The school nurse said I should get checked for pregnancy or an STD because the week you took my virginity, you slept with two other girls. And I’m willing to bet you didn’t wear a condom with them, either.”
Casey doesn’t answer, but the way he hangs his head is confirmation enough.
“A princess, a jock, and a cow. Remember which one I was?”
“It was just a joke,” he mumbles.
I can’t hold back the tears. All I can do is keep my voice steady.
“I spent my mother’s funeral thinking about you and how you wrecked me.
I never saw myself the same again. What you did traumatized me.
I’ve played mental gymnastics every day since battling body dysmorphia.
I starved myself for years, and when that wasn’t enough, I put needles in my body to stave off the desire to eat.
It almost killed me. But no big deal, because it was a joke, right? ”
A piano sounds. It’s a clean melody, the intro to “Hallelujah.” Instead of jumping into the verse, the prelude repeats, a violin joining in and layering the melody.
“They played this at her funeral,” I say to Casey.
“I’m sorry about your mom.”
“You want to know what you did? You broke me when I couldn’t afford to break. You marked me. You damaged me ?—”
I stop when a familiar voice rings through the microphone.
It’s enough to command my attention to the stage.
I barely have time to register that it’s Nathan playing the piano.
I’ve never heard him play before, but the magic in his fingertips is swallowed up into obscurity when my little sister sings from her soul, looking like an angel with the spotlight casting a bright halo over her.
For once, I don’t panic. I don’t rush to do damage control. Paralyzed in place by this dress that’s squeezing the life out of me, and the confrontation with Casey that has no resolution.
This isn’t about revenge, or retribution. It’s a realization that I’m stuck. I’ve been stuck.
I watch my baby sister on stage, but she’s not a baby anymore.
Not remotely close. The chubby cheeks and wispy pigtails are things of the past. She looks like a woman, commanding the stage without an ounce of shyness.
She looks happy as she dances over the vocals like music was created for her and her alone.
I tried to hide her. I attempted to instill the fear that lives in me.
Fear of rejection. Fear of humiliation. I want to shield her from all the pain that kept me from living my own life.
I tried to teach her to fear the stage because what if they laugh?
What if they can’t see she’s worthy? What if she leaps, thinking she’s a princess, only to find out she’s the cow?
How could I do that to her?
And how is it possible that my eleven-year-old sister is so fiercely brave, she didn’t buy into my bullshit for one minute? She’s a diamond on stage, blinding us all with her radiance.
The song ends. The audience roars in applause. Filled with pride, I want to clap along, but the room rotates faster and I can’t seem to put my hands together. My vision is so blurry I can’t even find my hands. Air, I need air. Why won’t my lungs work?
Casey garbles out something, but it sounds like he’s underwater. I can’t ask him what he said because I feel like if I open my mouth, if I could open my mouth, I might vomit.
Sweat drips from my forehead and melds with my tears.
The performance is over, yet the lights seem to dim even further.
Nathan is pushing through the crowd, everything around him going darker and darker but I see his gaze fixed in my direction. He’s moving faster than my mind can comprehend. He glitches like a movie that’s not buffering properly. Ten paces away, then two, back to five.
My hands reach out finally to grasp at anything as I fall to the ground. Faintly, there is the sharp tear of fabric, then silence, then blackness.
Then, peace.