A matter of heart, p.35
A Matter of Heart, page 35
If Cora’s cellphone ringing didn’t wake me up, her arguing with the person on the other line sure does.
“What is it with you two? Kellan, if I’m not going to talk to Jonah, I sure as hell won’t tell you where Chloe—”
I yank the phone out of her hands. “Hello?”
“Chloe?” Kellan sounds anxious. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
Cora is staring at me like I’ve lost my head. I have, because my resolve not to pull Kellan into this crumbled faster than muffin toppings. “With Cora.”
Something on his ends smacks against the phone. Probably his forehead. “Let me be more specific. Where exactly are you and Cora at this very moment?”
“It doesn’t mat—”
“It matters to me.”
Even though I know she’s annoyed at me, Cora strokes my hair softly. “I just wanted you to know that I’m okay, and that I’m sorry I didn’t call you yesterday.”
“But—”
“I left my purse behind,” I continue as steadily as I can.
“You could have called me. Collect. Which, if I’m not mistaken, is what you did with Cora. Or made yourself a goddamn phone and then called me. Why would you call her when you know you could’ve come to me?”
I shy away from Cora’s piercing gaze. “You know why.”
“I don’t care,” he says.
“I do. I won’t do that to you again.”
“Chloe. Let me come and get you right now. I’m not sure exactly what happened, because my brother, being the uninformative dumb-ass he can be, hasn’t given me any indication of what really went down, but . . . just let me come and get you.”
Repeated attempts at swallowing doesn’t get rid of the lump in my throat. How do I tell Kellan that I’m falling apart because his brother just called off our wedding? I can’t do that to him. I won’t. “No.”
“Then at least tell me where you are, so I can be sure you’re okay.”
“Cora’s here.”
“That doesn’t reassure me in the slightest. Please. Tell me.”
“Is he there, with you?”
“No, although I expect him in a few minutes. Tell me, C.”
Against my better judgment, I admit, “Hawaii.”
“Are you at the house?”
“Yeah,” I whisper.
There’s a whoosh of relief. “Okay, well, at least I know you’re somewhere safe.” And then, after a pause, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Wait,” I say, startled, but the dial tone tells me he’s already gone.
“Are you nuts?” Cora demands, snatching the phone out of my hand. “Did you not learn anything in the last Jonah-Chloe Misunderstanding? Rule number two! Thou shall not run to Kellan. Right behind: Thou shall talk to one another immediately to clear up any misunderstandings before Chloe can run to Kellan.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I leap off the couch. “I’m so sick of you always judging him! What is your problem?”
“He’s not your Connection, Chloe,” Cora yells, standing up, too.
I want to tear my hair out. “The hell he isn’t!”
Her eyes are wide as saucers. “What?”
I am mortified for allowing myself to lose control like this in front of Cora.
“Did you just say that he’s your Connection?”
“I can’t deal with this right now.” My stomach churns; I race to the bathroom.
Cora is nothing if not pugnacious. She barges through the door and stands over me, arms crossed.
“Go away,” I say tiredly, once more leaning my head against the toilet seat. I really need to find a better place to argue. This is truly disgusting.
“No.” I can practically hear her teeth grinding together.
I reach up and flush the toilet.
“You’ve been keeping secrets.”
I sigh, but I don’t fight it anymore. I’m too tired to find lies, half-truths, or ways to conceal the facts. “It’s just as I said. I’m Connected to him.”
“But . . . Jonah . . .?”
“Yeah. Him, too.”
She’s silent for a moment. “No one has two Connections. Well, except them, because they’re twins and all.”
Bitter laughter bubbles through my lips. “Thus, my problem.”
“Holy shit. That’s . . . wow. I don’t even know how to take that.”
“Join the club.”
“This is why you had an ulcer.” She motions to me, still resting against the toilet.
I’m glad she doesn’t need more info. “Yes.”
“This is why things have been tense between J and Kel for years now.”
I nod.
She slides down next to me. “They obviously know about it.”
Another nod.
A super long pause. And then—“That blows.”
When Kellan arrives, he and Cora barely acknowledge one another, but it’s interesting, because the light in Cora’s eyes towards Kellan is different now.
Less hostile. Less judgmental.
He joins me on the couch wordlessly, sliding his arm around me. I shift closer and turn into him, allowing myself to go blind in his comfort.
Cora mumbles something about wanting to put her feet in the water, and the next thing I hear is the screen door slamming shut behind her.
“He didn’t call off the wedding,” is the first thing Kellan says to me.
I wonder how hard it is for him to tell me something like that.
His fingers weave through my hair. “Or break up with you. He was trying to tell you that the Guard has requested his presence as Council liaison on a crucial Elders mission which just so happens to fall on the same date as . . . you know. He was . . .” Kellan blows out a breath. “Upset, and when he’s upset, he sometimes isn’t the most eloquent guy out there. I thought you’d know that by now.”
I’m surprised Jonah can even breathe, I’ve put him on such a high pedestal—but he’s always been the in-control one in our messy trio. I’ve never seen him upset enough to be anything other than concise with his thoughts.
But Kellan wouldn’t lie to me. Sweet, sweet relief fills me up, which only serves to make me feel all the guiltier, because I’m being comforted by the person I’ve considered leaving Jonah for countless times.
I am truly a screwed up girl.
Kellan shifts under me. “He’s freaking out right now. Ready to kill me for coming here and not letting him come, too.”
And yet, I’m glad Kellan came. I chew on my lip for a moment and then tell him, because he’s my secret keeper, the truth. “I’m really tired of all of this.”
His heartbeat is steady against my ear.
“The overreactions. The feeling like I’m going to die or lose myself every time something happens between any of us.” I twist my fingers in his shirt. “Do you ever feel like that? Like sometimes, you wish there were no such things as Connections? That you could pick and choose whom to love, and when, and how?”
His answer is, “Every single day.”
And I know he doesn’t take it the wrong way, that he knows I’m not saying I wished I didn’t love him, or Jonah. But that it’d be nice to have a say in my life.
Nons have it so good and they don’t even know it.
“Do you think it ever gets easier?”
Kellan’s thoughtful for a long moment. “Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
Going back to Annar is a relatively simple process considering how I left. I’d fled to Hawaii, sure I was going to split apart. As I head back, I realize that there was no splitting, but rather, yet another round of cracking. I feel like one of those antique vases, where the glaze is riddled with cracks, and it’s barely held together but somehow manages to still be functional.
I insist on us walking Cora back to her apartment before I head home. The truth is, I’m just not quite ready. I feel . . . fragile. Tired. Worn out. Beaten down.
Cora pulls me aside at the door to her building, jabbing me in the stomach with a finger. “I expect you to come to me the moment that thing comes back.” She looks over at Kellan, who is checking his email on his phone. “I get it now.”
“Huh?”
“Him.” She nods in his direction.
I give her a blank look.
“Why he is the way he is,” she says patiently. “I’m impressed.”
“Oh.”
“It takes a lot to impress me.”
“I know.”
“I used to think he was scum for wanting his brother’s girlfriend. I couldn’t understand why he’d do that to his twin, because I figured, it must hurt Jonah a lot. But I get it now. He’s not scum.”
I’m exasperated. “I’ve told you that hundreds of times.”
“Yeah.” She grimaces. “But I get it now.”
“I’m sure that’ll make all the difference in the worlds to Kellan.”
He looks up at the sound of his name. Cora rolls her eyes and kisses me on the cheek. “I have your back. Remember that. You need my help, I’m here for you. Always.”
“I know,” I tell her, and I do. Maybe I need to start leaning on my friends to help me get through this. Maybe I don’t have to suffer in my self-imposed silence.
“You were talking about me?” Kellan asks as we walk back to my apartment.
“I told her,” I explain. “I was tired of having to defend me and you to her.”
His eyebrows rise slightly.
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk. “Why is this a secret?”
He doesn’t answer.
“It’s stupid,” I grind out. “Did you know that Cora thought you were a jerk because you like me?”
“Love you,” he corrects.
“She thought you were a jerk.”
“Sorry, but Cora’s opinion means less than dirt.”
“That’s not the point!” I stamp a foot like a toddler.
“Then what is?”
“This secret. It’s stupid. I’m tired of people constantly thinking I’m some sort of whore because I love you—”
He’s amused. “I highly doubt anyone thinks you’re a whore.”
“And that you’re some kind of rakish ass because you like to be around me.”
“Love to,” he corrects. And then, lips curving, “Rakish?” He shakes his head. “You read too many romance novels, C.”
“You know what I mean. Wouldn’t it be easier to just let it be in the open?”
He reaches out and touches my arm. “No. And you know why.”
“It’s not fair.” Tears blur my vision.
“No,” he agrees. “It definitely isn’t.”
Jonah’s waiting by the door when I come in. Before I can say anything, he’s kissing me, hauling me against him, lacing one hand in my hair and then splaying the other across my lower back. He leads me to the couch, tugging me down and rotating so I’m under him. He continues kissing me until I’m completely and utterly breathless. His hands are everywhere, making it hard to focus on anything at all but him.
Kissing Jonah is always a good thing. But tonight, it’s amazing. I think we’re going to finally make love, but he pulls away from me the moment my hands go to the buttons on his jeans.
“You need to understand something.” His voice is quiet against my ear. It’s sort of hard to focus on his words, since he’s slowly unbuttoning my shirt. “No matter what, I would never, ever call off our wedding.”
I clamp a hand down over his, two buttons down, so I can gather my thoughts. “You said cancel.”
His breath is so soft and heavy at the same time against my exposed collarbone. “You didn’t let me finish, Chloe. You just got up and ran, and I hadn’t even finished what I was saying, leaving me to wonder what in the hell was happening. What I was in the process of saying was how we had to cancel all of the reservations we have now and postpone the date until a little while later. But I never, ever would cancel it entirely with you. Why would I? You’re everything to me.”
I’ve never been able to handle seeing Jonah in pain, and I know he is now, so I let it go. Because I think, for the first time, his cracks are beginning to show, too.
The cracks expand over the next few days. Jonah doesn’t say anything, but he no longer carries himself in the normal, calm way that makes him who he is. It’s little things that highlight his stress—his knuckles, white against whatever he’s happening to be holding onto when they’re not flexing over and over again, the raw hangnail on his thumb repeatedly chewed on, his foot tapping every so lightly against the floor in an irritated pattern, his smile forced and strained, and his eyes, hooded and distant, when he doesn’t realize I’m watching.
Something is wrong, but he doesn’t talk to me about it. And because I’m so tired and stressed myself, and terrified of us fighting further, I selfishly let it pass without pushing the matter. Oh, that’s not to say I haven’t tried. Halfheartedly, I’ll ask every so often, “Are you okay?” There’s always a quick affirmation that all is well, but I know better, because I do the same to him. I feel like crap for not demanding more truthful answers, but on the other hand, I don’t know if I can handle much more stress without shattering entirely.
I’m getting ready to go to bed when Jonah walks into the room, a week after I fled to Hawaii, his hair wet from a shower. He’s antsy, edgy, almost as if he doesn’t quite know where to stand or sit. I set the book I’ve been reading down and wait for him to say something.
“I’ve been thinking we should get married.”
I smile up at him. “We are getting married. We just have to pick a new date.”
“No.” His hand is flexing like crazy. “I mean, we should get married. Now.”
“Now?”
“Tonight.”
I sit straight up. “What?”
Dark smudges mar the skin under his eyes; I know it’s more than just exhaustion from running so late at night. “I want to get married. Tonight.”
I’m speechless.
He points a finger at me. “You were upset because you thought I was canceling.”
“Yes, but then you explained—”
He talks right over me. “I don’t want to have to go through that again. Not knowing where you were was awful. And it’s because of a ceremony that’s more for all the guests than the two people getting married. The ceremony means very little to me, Chloe. I think you know that.”
He’s right. He’s always been against big weddings and has never hidden this fact from me.
“I only agreed to a wedding because I thought it was what you wanted. But now I think we should elope. That’s the goal anyway, right? To be married?”
He’s got a point.
“So, why don’t we just do it? Go tonight and get it over and done with. I mean, I already consider myself married to you in every way possible. This is merely a formality.”
I have to search for my voice. “Um . . . how? Where?”
“Vegas,” he says firmly. “They have those little chapels on every street corner.”
“Las Vegas?”
He nods once.
“You want to go,” I say slowly, “to Las Vegas and get married. Tonight.”
“Yes.”
To say I’m surprised would be a gross understatement. “Wow. I—”
“Besides.” He comes to stand next to me. “This’ll be easier on everyone involved.”
“Everyone?”
“My brother.” His arms cross against his chest.
I swallow hard. “How so?”
“He wasn’t planning on coming to the wedding, and I assume people would question why. This way, when we elope, he won’t have to face that sort of scrutiny.”
I feel like a parrot, but all I can really do is repeat back what he says. “Scrutiny?”
“It’ll be like a Band-Aid,” he says, fingers drumming against the opposite arm, “ripped off fast to minimize pain.”
“Band-Aid?”
“This is the way to go,” he says confidently.
“Vegas.”
“Yes.”
I look down at the comforter lying across my lap. “I’m in my pajamas.”
“Wear them if you want. I don’t care.”
“You don’t care if I wear my pajamas to our wedding?”
He makes it quite clear I could be naked and he wouldn’t care.
“Jonah, it’s eleven o’clock at night.”
“Vegas never sleeps.”
I stare up at him, perplexed at what’s brought this on. On one hand, I absolutely have no problem with this plan, because it would solve a lot of problems. I’ve never been overly concerned with an actual ceremony, either. Being married is, as he so succinctly put it, the goal. But on the other, there’s just something about the way this appeared out of the blue, on the heels of bizarre behavior from him over the last few days.
“All you have to do is say yes. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be Chloe Whitecomb. We can even start looking for a new apartment within a few days—wouldn’t it be great to have a much bigger place?”
I don’t know why, but it seems like he ought to be smiling when he says these things. Happy. Excited. But he’s none of those things. He’s on edge.
“You don’t think we ought to tell . . . Kellan?”
His eyes narrow. “I hardly think we have to ask my brother permission to get married.”
“Yes, that’s true, but—”
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
My personal shield goes up faster than it ever has before. “What? No!”
“Maybe,” he says in a very tight voice, “marrying me isn’t what you want anymore.”
I scramble out of bed. “Of course I want to get married!”
“Is there any legitimate reason we should wait?” I’m shocked by the amount of tension radiating from his body. “Because, to me, this is a no-brainer. You were upset when you thought the wedding was off. So upset you bolted. I’m offering a perfect solution. We don’t wait. There will be no postponement, no delays. We get married tonight. If you want a reception, then that’s fine. We’ll have one whenever you want, wherever. I don’t care.”
As I stare at him, I’m reminded that I’ve known this man since I was a little girl. My heart was lost to him the first moment I saw his eyes. He was my first kiss, the person I’ve judged all other men against. I fell in love with him long before I ever knew about the existence of his brother. I’m still in love with him, despite a Connection to someone else. He’s the first person I want to see in the morning, the last person at night.
