Page 72 of Follow the Rhythm
“Absolutely not. I’m not proud of my past behavior, love. But in my defense, I never gave anyone the wrong idea.” He tried to take my hand, but I pulled away.
“Right, okay, but what makes me, us, this -” I gestured between us, “any different?”
Kieran stared at me. “Everything. I’m a completely different person now.”
“But for how long? How long will this new version of you last? What happens when you’re not mourning Michael anymore?”
“Michael has nothing to do with it,” he growled.
“I don’t believe you,” I said vehemently. “No matter what you say, you barely know me. How do you know you won’t get sick of me?”
Kieran pulled me closer to him, his grip tight on my wrist. He pressed my hand to his chest, above the thumping of his heart. “Do you not feel this? It’s beating foryou. You are mine, love. You must feel that, too.”
The most terrifying part was I did. I could feel that connection between us, and it paralyzed me. His heart kicked beneath my palm, and mine drummed in response. I knew in that moment that Kieran could hurt me much worse than Ellis ever had.
“I need some space. It’s too much,” I said, my voice choked with fear. I pulled my hand from his grasp. “I’m sorry.”
Kieran’s face hardened. “Don’t do this, Jess. Just talk to me. Please.”
I shook my head.
“Why are you so ready to believe the worst of me?” he asked.
I made myself look him in the eyes. I’m sure he thought things would be different for us. But he was an Alpha, and I was my mother’s daughter, and I could picture our future with unsettling clarity. I would not repeat her mistakes.
“I am sorry. But I need to go.”
I made it to the door before I heard him say, “You still haven’t scared me off.”
I didn’t respond. I just left in total silence, surprised I couldn’t hear my heart shattering into a million tiny fragments.
The train ride back to my apartment felt like a funeral march. But I made it without bursting into tears on the train, which I counted as a win. Grace had texted me, asking if I wanted to hang out, but I declined. I needed to be alone.
Henry, the doorman, looked concerned as I approached my building. “Are you alright, Miss Moretti?”
“Yes, everything is fucking wonderful. Can’t you tell?”
After such a long time away, my apartment seemed new all over again. I drew the curtains shut. The view from the windows - that tiny slice of the sparkling bay - just reminded me of the view from Kieran’s place.
I’d get over this. It was better to make a clean break now rather than wait for him to do the honors.
I had some freelance work waiting for me I’d picked up the night before, but I crawled into the tiny nest in my closet. Even with new sheets and descenter, there was still a whiff of Charlie’scherry scent that made my heart contract painfully. I burrowed into the blankets. I still didn’t cry.
Two days passed. I ate a bit, sent a few emails, responded to Austin and Grace’s texts enough to keep them off my back, but mostly I slept. I told myself I was just tired from the tour.
If I recognized some of the behaviors from right after my Aunt Natalie died, I tried to ignore them. I was saving electricity by not turning on the lights. Saving water by not showering. Saving money by not eating.
I remembered watching some reality show where they dumped people in the wilderness with the bare minimum supplies, and one of the legitimate methods the contestants used to survive was to do as little as possible. They would lie still most of the day, only getting up for the absolute necessities, and conserve their energy. That seemed like a sound strategy, so I committed completely.
“Jess?” Austin’s voice called from the living room, waking me up.
I sighed. Why the hell did I give them a key to the apartment?
“In here,” I called back, still curled up in the nest's darkness. My voice was hoarse from not using it.
Austin opened the door, and I squinted against the light. I sat up reluctantly. “You look awful. Are you sick or something?”
“Thanks so much,” I said sarcastically. “I’m fine. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
