The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,202

I’ve told myself, drilled it into my thick skull, that things have worked out as they were meant to.

So, why does thinking that feel so much like swallowing broken glass?

“Stop being dramatic, Kal.” I scold myself under my breath.

I steel my shoulders and steady my breath. But nothing can calm the wild beating of my heart. I close my eyes and remind myself he doesn’t hold my heart the way he used to.

I’ve moved on.

I’m happy.

I’m building a life.

I repeat these words to myself over and over again until I can say it without stumbling over the words. And then, I step out into the hallway.

Our eyes find each other immediately and I see the same uncertainty as I feel staring back at me. But it’s different, rougher, less restrained than mine. And in his gaze is so much hunger. I feel it as though he was touching me and I have to steel myself against it.

“Will.” His gruff voice is just a decibel above a whisper and he swallows hard when I brush a tear away.

“Hey, Carlton,” I manage.

He walks up to me, his lips pressed together in a determined line, his eyes intent on mine. Without missing a beat he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug.

I hug him back. It feels so good to be back in his strong arms that for minute I forget the way we left things and how much it hurt that last time I saw him.

But only for a minute.

I pull out of his hold, and he lets me go, but reluctantly. A shiver of dread and delight runs the same course as his hands slide down my arms. He grasps my hands, holds them in his and my heart beats wildly.

I see the instant the stone of the ring on my left hand presses into his palm.

His eyes never leave mine and tears well at the back of them as I see a whole rail of emotions move through his.

Surprise.

Confusion.

Disbelief.

Hurt.

“What the fuck is this?”

I force myself to smile; it feels watery and thin and brittle.

“I’m getting married,” I rush out in a breath before I lose my nerve.

“To who?” he asks flatly and drops my hand.

“To Paul. I’m here with him. He knows Marcel…”

“I thought you worked for him?” He holds my hand, his eyes on the ring.

“No. I work for his family’s business. He’s not my boss or anything.”

“Do you love him?” he asks, his tone is harsh.

I close my eyes because I can’t look at him and say it.

“I’m pregnant.”

The room is silent.

He doesn’t say anything, but his chest heaves sharply on a silent gasp, and I can’t bring myself to look at him.

“Do you want to get married?” His voice is so gentle, so tender that it makes me want to weep in his arms.

“Yes.” I say even though, I want to confess that I’m not sure.

“Do you love him?” His voice is still gentler when he asks this time, but I can see the truth, the devastation in his eyes.

It makes me angry.

“You don’t get to look at me like that.” I spit.

“I fucking know, Kal.” He says and he sounds like he’s in pain. “I know that night was a shit show. But you disappeared without a trace. I had no idea where you’d gone. Why didn’t you ever try to get in touch?” His question is devoid of accusation, but I can see it in his eyes and the audacity of it is shocking.

“Why would I? We didn’t leave for four days after… that night. I never heard from you.” I almost choke on the memory.

His eyes narrow and he clenches his jaw.

“I came by the very next day, your mother said you didn’t want to see me. I came every fucking day until you I realized you were gone.” He grits out angrily.

I reel backwards.

My mother lied to me. Granted, I shouldn’t be surprised. It was just one in a string of lies that she told me my whole life. But when I think what might be different if I’d seen him before I left. If I’d known he wanted to see me… I can’t bear the thought.

They played games with our lives and they won. We were kids without a say. What’s done is done. I look over at Remi and he looks as despondent as I feel.

We stand there in a heavy barbed silence that makes the room feel very small.

I break the silence because I want to