Page 41 of Under the Texas Sky
The chasm between us is too wide to bridge now, so I head for the door. We’re two different people, walking two different paths.But no.I need to know one thing before I walk out of here, because as soon as that door closes behind me, I’m done.
“Why did you never call Mitch?” I ask, turning back to look at him.
The nap did him some good, because he looks sober enough now to at least have a semi-decent conversation.
“Why would I?” he replies. “Neither of you wanted to talk to me, so I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“You blocked mine and Mitch’s numbers. How else were we supposed to contact you?”
He’s stubborn, so goddamn stubborn.
“If you wanted to talk to me, you would have found a way.”
“So even after I told your boyfriend what was going on with Mitch, you still didn’t reach out?” That pisses me the fuck off. Because how dare he? How dare he turn his back on the oneman who saved us, who put clothes on our backs and food in our bellies?
He walks to the kitchen, but my temper has flared now and he’s not walking away without us having this conversation.
“Are you fucking serious Kian? What the fuck happened to you that you would do that to Mitch? I understand you hating me, I hate myself for what happened, but Mitch never deserved that from you. He needed you and you weren’t there.”
Kian keeps his back to me while he fetches himself a glass of water.
“You are so selfish,” I continue. “And you know what?” My face is red, my blood pumping hard through my chest. “Fuck you, Kian.”
His eyes widen, but I’m on a roll now, and I don’t care what I deconstruct in my path.
“I’ve watched you, you know? Living your life and doing all these great and amazing things. And while you were off gallivanting around the world, I was at home taking care of Mitch. Driving him to his appointments, making sure he had medicine, working twice as hard as everyone else so I could pay for a nurse to stay with him when I wasn’t able to.
“You are not the man that I loved. I don’t know what happened to him but this”–I wave my hand up and down in front of his body–“is not him. I thought we could talk. I thought I could explain myself to you. But you’ve made it obvious that you don’t care.”
I turn and walk back toward the door. My only goal is to leave this room and go back to my boyfriend. To let him hold me, comfort me, and tell me everything will be okay.
“Goodbye, Kian.”
I open the door, and wait as it shuts behind me. This isn’t the closure I needed, but it’s going to be the closest I’ll ever get. I have to accept that.
The sound of the door shutting is what spurs me to move to the elevators. When one door closes, another one opens.
CHAPTER 36
KIAN
Thirty-two minutes after Trent leaves, the door knob to the suite swivels, and I watch as Willow stumbles in first. Her poor hair looks like a rat’s nest. But by the way she’s loudly singing “Fergalicious” and carrying her shoes in her hand, it seems like she had a good time tonight. She throws herself on the couch beside me, wrapping her hand across my shoulders and leaning over to press a sloppy kiss to my cheek. I can smell the alcohol on her breath.
Klaus finally walks in after her, looking a lot less drunk. His prim blond hair is perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. His nose is upturned as he stares at me and Willow on the couch. I’m in no mood for his holier-than-thou attitude.
God, sometimes I want to flash back in time and smack some sense into myself for ever letting myself get involved with him. I didn’t wanthim,really,I just didn’t want to be alone.
And when Trent came up here, even in my drunken state, I knew I was fucked. He’s the one I want. No matter how much I try to change how I look or how I act, I belong with him and he belongs with me. I don’t care about his little boyfriend, or the time we’ve been apart.
“Sit down,” I demand, glaring at Klaus.
His blue eyes narrow at me, but I know he’ll do it, even if he wants to act big and tough. He lets out an annoyed huff and rests his ass on the corner of the table in front of me.
“Give me your phone.”
He sputters and his face goes red in anger. “What the hell, Kian? I’m not giving you my phone.”
“Give me your phone, now, Klaus,” I say again, each syllable enunciated in my anger. I’m about to find out the truth.
