A matter of heart, p.34
A Matter of Heart, page 34
This. Isn’t. Happening. Is it? Kill me now. “It was more like across the back of the couch, really.”
“Hmm. I considered that until you two held hands.” She continues inspecting her nails. “Which is an interesting thing for somebody to do with her fiancé’s brother.”
I claw at the bench below me, but decide to not play this game with her. “What’s your point, Sophie?”
“Do you two hang out like that often?”
A splinter slides in between my nail and finger, but I don’t care. “If I’m not mistaken, Kellan is no longer any of your business.”
“I wonder if Jonah has any idea of just how close his brother and fiancée are.”
I let go of the bench as a whoosh of laughter escapes me. Is she contemplating holding this over my head? So she can—what?—get me to convince Kellan to take her back? “Yes.”
“Is he, though?”
“Yes,” I answer as firmly as I can. It’s mostly true.
One of her perfectly groomed eyebrows arches up.
“If you think he needs to know,” I say, “by all means, go and tell him about your concern.”
She picks off a piece of her red nail polish, marring the perfection. “Everyone warned me that Kellan only forms superficial bonds with women. But what I think no one realizes is that he does have a very strong bond with someone.”
I don’t respond.
The red speck is flicked forwards. “That day we had lunch—everything changed. And I think you and I both know why.”
I force myself to sound firm. “I’m done with this conversation.”
She puts an arm out when I try to stand up. “Can you swear to me that you had nothing to do with why we’re on a break?”
It’s a low blow, one that I can’t possibly answer truthfully without broadcasting my blatant guilt. But I’m suddenly feeling quite petty. “Were you even really dating? Because that’s not what he told me.”
Her lips thin in anger. “Careful, Chloe. You don’t want me as an enemy.”
Oh, no she didn’t. “Are you threatening me?”
She folds her hands across a knee. “I will fight for him.”
Is she for real? What does she expect me to do, cat fight her or something? “Does that surprise you?” she asks when I don’t respond. “I told you the first time we met that I loved him.”
I can’t help myself. I totally laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
“Hell yes, I am,” she says. “He’s mine.”
The cramping in my stomach is almost unbearable. All I want to do is go home and crawl into a tiny, fetal position and sleep. How did I get into this situation? It’s beyond surreal. I rub at my forehead. “I’m really sorry you seem to be taking this breakup hard—”
She cuts me off. “You think your hold on Jonah Whitecomb is strong? Think again.”
WHOA NOW. I’m off the bench in a flash. “Excuse me?”
“What’s the old saying? An eye for an eye?”
My fingers curl into fists. “What in the hell—”
“By the time I’m done with you,” she says, sitting on the bench like she’s the Queen of England, “you may not have anyone at all.”
I can’t even speak, I’m so stunned.
She finally stands up. “Nobody takes from me what’s mine.” She makes a motion of looking me up and down in disgust. “Nobody.”
And then she walks away.
Kellan is looking at me like I’m crazy.
“I’m not lying.” My stomach cramps and I double over. Effing ulcer. Why can’t I get rid of the damn thing already? “I swear to—”
He grabs me. “Sit down.” The pain subsides after he lays a cool hand on my cheek, making me wonder if he knows about the ulcer. Then he rubs at his forehead. “Okay. Okay. So—she just showed up and threatened you?”
“HAVEN’T YOU HEARD A WORD I’VE SAID?”
“Don’t yell at me,” he says calmly. “Of course I’ve heard you. The whole building heard you. I’m just asking for clarification—”
“Just surge and take the damn memory already!”
When he enters my mind, I close my eyes and sink back into his couch. I pretty much stormed directly to his apartment the minute Sophie was out of my eyesight.
It’s a pattern of mine, I think, running to Kellan.
He watches the memory carefully, replaying the last bit of threats a second time. After he eases out of my mind, he stares at the wall in front of us.
“Can I ask you something?”
He nods.
“Did you tell her about me—us?—when you broke up with her?”
“No.” He’s clearly tired.
“She knows.”
“Frankly,” he says, “I’m surprised more people don’t. I don’t think I’m good at hiding my feelings for you anymore.” He stands up and walks over to where his cell phone is. When he dials the phone, I know exactly whom he’s calling.
I consider leaving, but when he comes back and sits next to me, I stay where I am. I’m morbidly curious as to what he’ll say.
As if he knows I am, he puts the call on speakerphone. She’s tremulous and delicate sounding when she answers. “I’m so glad you called, sweetie. We really need to talk.”
He lays the cell phone on the coffee table in front of us. “You’re right. With the amount of messages you’re leaving me on a regular basis, I fear I wasn’t perfectly clear with you before.”
She’s alarmed.
“We’re done, Sophie. I really thought that we were on the same page, because I clearly remember us discussing that first night I agreed to go out with you that I wasn’t interested in anything more than something that, at the very most, could be classified as casual. You told me that was what you were looking for, too.”
Bitter laughter hisses across the connection. “It was a line and you know it.”
I cannot believe I’m listening to this, but I’d have to physically be escorted out of the room to stop. “Really? Because my stellar dating track record spoke differently?”
“You felt something for me. I know you did!”
“But I didn’t.” He tugs at his hair. “Sophie, I am truly sorry if you misunderstood the nature of our relationship—”
“I love you.” It’s a cross between a plea and a curse. “Don’t you get that? I LOVE YOU.”
He’s quiet but firm. “I don’t love you, Sophie. I never will.”
I wonder if he wishes he could. Loving her might be easy. She used to make him laugh. She’s gorgeous and smart (according to gossip) and really good at her job. Maybe they would’ve developed a shorthand between them. They could’ve been one of those couples everyone was jealous of, because they’d be so beautiful together.
“This is because of Chloe, isn’t it?”
She’s right. Of course she’s right. But rather than outright confirm this, he says, “Please don’t call me again. Don’t show up at my building, expecting my doorman to let you up. Or come to my work. To reiterate: We. Are. Done. That’s it. There’s no more to say. Nothing to argue.”
“Don’t throw us away.” She’s crying.
“But that’s the thing, Sophie,” he says. “There never was an us to throw away in the first place.”
After he hangs us, I don’t know what to say. But he does. “You don’t have to worry about her going after Jonah. There is no way he would ever let you go.” It’s his turn to sound bitter.
How many times can my heart break before the pieces no longer fit together?
When Jonah leans in and kisses me hello, a siren goes off in my head. I can’t put an exact finger on it, but something is definitely off with him. Maybe it’s the way his lips are pressed together, like he’s holding something in. Or the sadness shadowing the blue in his eyes. Or his hand gripping the edge of his t-shirt and twisting, like he’s trying to actively stop flexing his fingers. All of these things serve to up my already sky high guilt levels considerably. I lock my feelings away behind a shield. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
His eyes widen for a split second before he schools his features. How I’ve begun to resent those calm faces of his and his brother’s. “Well, hello to you, too.”
He sits down across from me at the small table I’d gotten us at one of his favorite diners. I haven’t seen him in over a day; he’s been off on a quick mission in Tennessee. But yes, he’s tense. Without his shirt to hold onto, his hand is back to unconsciously flexing against the tabletop. That means he’s stressed. Stressed about what? The mission? Me? Is he stressed about me again? Did Sophie—oh gods, does he know about Sophie? DOES HE KNOW ABOUT ME AND KELLAN?
“Do you know what you’d like to drink?” a waiter asks. I jerk in my chair, sending my menu across the table. Thankfully, there are no water glasses to spill this time.
“Can you give us a minute?” Jonah practically snaps, which is totally unlike him. The waiter leaves, and my heart decides to pump two times faster than normal.
My palms are clammy. Something is—he’s—
“Anything interesting happen today?” He’s not looking at me. He’s staring at the menu below him like his life depends on it. His voice is weird. Strained.
HE KNOWS.
I’m a coward. A big fat coward who still can’t tell him the truth. I think about how Sophie said she’d fight for Kellan. If Jonah thinks I’ll let him go without a fight, he’s got another thing coming. Here I am, planning two wars over two guys, but please, for the love of everything good in all the worlds, let me be wrong. Let this be nothing. I can only whisper, “No.”
He jerks out a nod. My stomach is on fire. I don’t know how I’m going to hold down the little lunch I managed to get in me today.
I watch him swallow. And then do it again. “We need to talk.”
!!!!!!!!!!
“This is—” He yanks a hand through his hair. Blows out a hard breath. Hits an open palm against the table, rattling the silverware and glasses. “We need to talk about the wedding.”
!!!!!!!!!!
“I know we’ve put down deposits on everything, and we’ll be out of a ton of money when we cancel, but—”
CANCEL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
“It’ll be unavoidable—”
OH. MY. GODS. I can’t breathe. I CAN’T BREATHE.
“But, I think, in the long run, it’ll be the best thing—”
I have to get out of here. NOW. NOW. I can’t breathe.
I’m gone.
As I don’t have my apartment keys, since I left my purse back at the diner with Jonah, I’m not able to go home. I also don’t have my cell phone, making calling anyone who actually had a spare set impossible. It’d be foolish to go home anyway, because that’ll be the first place Jonah’ll look, if he even actually wants to see me again.
My world collapses down around me. The black spots that plagued me well over a year ago when I caught him kissing Callie are back in full force.
Jonah
called
off
the
wedding.
Broke up with me. Even though I’ve been debating postponing the wedding myself until the air could be cleared.
I have to get the hell out of Annar.
Half an hour later, I’m standing outside his house in Kauai, trying desperately to get the spare key down from its hiding place. I’m berating myself for coming here, to his house, even after he rejected me, but I stupidly want to be around something that’s his.
The cramping in my stomach is unbearable. I cave to the nausea and throw up the food I ate earlier. I choose to ignore the blood in my mouth and in the bowl below me.
Chloe, Caleb begs, suddenly present, you need to get to a Shaman.
I can’t, and he knows I won’t.
If you won’t go home, for the gods’ sakes, go to Kellan. Please.
It shocks me Caleb even suggests this. But, it cost Kellan too much when I went to him the last time Jonah broke my heart.
I love Kellan too much to drag him under with me.
Then let me come to you.
I don’t let him. I don’t want anyone around me right now. So I let the darkness take me away from Jonah, away from his rejection, and away from the blinding pain in my stomach.
“Where are you?!”
Cora’s never been the most sympathetic person, and I’m beginning to doubt the wisdom in calling her. But I figured I needed to call someone to let them know I was okay. And to also let them know not to come looking.
“It doesn’t really matter.” Even to me, my voice is hollow. “I just wanted you to know I’m safe.”
“Do you know how frantic Jonah is right now? He and Kellan have been looking for you ever since you disappeared yesterday!”
I lean against the glass walls of the phone booth. I’d resorted to calling her collect, considering my lack of money. Also, phone booths are disgusting. I’ll have to shower, because I’m pretty sure there’s at least thirty years’ worth of dirt caking the phone. Furthermore, I’m a moron for not making myself a phone, but I’m afraid I’m not firing on all cylinders at the moment. Breakups will do that to you. “I’m not ready to come back.”
“What the hell, Chloe? You think you can just up and disappear on everybody?”
I double over as a spasm rocks me. “Excuse me for not taking Jonah’s dumping of me well!”
There’s an awful silence before she hisses, “What?”
I swallow back a surge of bile. “He broke up with me, Cora.” I flat out begin to sob. “He called off the wedding.”
“SHUT UP.”
Somebody walking by stares. I probably would, too. I’m nearly hysterical, stuck in a booth when normal people use cellphones in private to break down with.
“Chloe!” Cora has to yell to overcome my sobs. “I just don’t understand. He’s out of his mind, not being able to find you! Why would he be like that if he dumped you?”
Because he’s a good guy. Because, even if he’s done with me and all the shit I bring, he’ll probably try to make things right first.
“Sonofabitch,” she bites out, and I wince, because Cora is normally not the prolific cusser. But here she is, cussing up a storm. “He conveniently left that part out when talking to me! Okay, well—screw him! Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you. Don’t argue. Let me help you through this.”
Maybe I’m weak, but, contradiction I am, I could really use a shoulder right now to physically cry on. I finally tell her what she wants to know.
Cora’s been in Kauai for a little over fifteen minutes when her cell phone rings. She shows me the screen after she pulls it out. “I can tell him to go to hell.”
I squeeze my knees up against my chest. “No. Just . . . just tell him I’m fine and not to worry. He doesn’t have to worry about me anymore.” I choke back a sob. I don’t know if I can do this. How I can make it through the next minute, let alone my life without him.
She isn’t polite when she answers the phone, and for once, I’m glad I can’t hear his voice on the other side. All I have to go with is Cora’s side of the conversation.
“So, Jonah. Wanna tell me what you and Chloe were talking about right before she left?” And I want to laugh, in a sick, sad way, because she’s gesturing and nodding like he can see her.
There’s a long pause, enough of one to make my stomach constrict.
“DIDN’T YOU THINK BREAKING UP WITH HER WOULD MAYBE UPSET HER?”
Must. Find. Toilet. Now.
I lose yesterday’s lunch all over again the moment I drop to my knees in the bathroom. Cora follows me in minutes later. She sinks to the floor next to me. “Babe, Jonah is saying he didn’t break up with you.”
I lean my head against the cool porcelain. My forehead is clammy, which makes the situation all the more disgusting. “He . . . he said we had to cancel the wedding. Said it was for the best.”
She rubs my back. “I’ll be honest. He acted like he had no idea what I was talking about.”
Which is even worse than I thought. He’s probably so repulsed by me right now that he can’t even pretend he cares about me with people right now. Just the thought of him hating me leads to bawling.
Cora leans her head against my shoulder blades, her hand still gentle at my back. “Why didn’t you tell me about this ulcer?”
Who cares about the ulcer? That’s nothing compared to losing someone you love.
But Cora cares, because the pain in my stomach subsides until grief is the only thing aching in my body. “You should’ve come to me.” She sighs. “I didn’t tell him where you are. Truth be told, he’s probably putting a hit out on me as we speak.” She laughs, and it vibrates through my body, like an alien emotion. “You should talk to him, though.”
I will. I’ll fight for him, with everything I have, but I can’t do it at the moment. Despite how I’ve been acting lately, sometimes, a girl just needs to cry. Preferably not while hugging a toilet, but beggars can’t be choosers.
“It’s funny,” she muses, hand warm as it forms smooth circles on my back, “but I’d come to think you were made of steel nowadays. You always seem so in control.”
What a joke. I am the least in control person alive.
“It’s like, after the last argument the two of you had, you suddenly got a lot older than the rest of us. I mean, you go on all these super important missions. You’re on the Council. You’re always smiling. You come across to me as somebody on top of the worlds.”
She’s kidding, right? Do I really hide all of this so well?
“It’s nice to see you’re Human after all.” She laughs again. “Well, not exactly Human. You know what I mean.”
I turn away from the toilet and fall into her arms and cry some more. I tell her I’m weak, that I wish I could get a handle on my feelings, but sometimes, it’s just too damn hard.
“You’re not weak. Why does everyone think that girls who cry are weak? That’s the biggest load of bullshit out there. We need to stop pretending that people who show emotions are weak. You can kick ass and cry. I’m just saying.”
I follow her advice. I cry. And cry some more. And when it dries up, I follow her out to the living room and curl up on the couch, my head in her lap, until I fall asleep.
