Page 135 of Tall, Royal Hater
I widened my eyes in question. “You don’t think that makes me sound like an ungrateful child? I mean in your eyes especially, I should just be a spoiled, rich kid who had herparents open all the doors for her and now she wants to close them all.” I shook my head. “And they might not have said it directly, but you don’t think all the encouraging was because they also wanted that for me? And now I’m just letting them down by not achieving and not even knowing what I want to do next.”
My monologue ended in silence. For so long, Shehryar just observed me, his thoughts and expression indecipherable, and I couldn’t even bring myself to pretend to focus on finishing my box of chocolate goodness. So, I sat there, stiff and uncomfortable, staring back.
Then, with a slow exhale, Shehryar turned his upper body directly towards me. “I disagree,” he said plain and simple. “I don’t think you have any reason to worry about what they would think—”
“No, but I do,” I corrected him. “I don’t give two shits about what other people think of me, but I care what they think. I don’t want them to look at me and see a failure. I don’t want their pity or disappointment or to wonder where they went wrong. I want them to be proud of me. So, yeah. I have every fucking reason to worry myself sick about what they’ll think.”
His brows dipped lower. “You’re putting a lot of words into people’s mouths that they have yet to actually say.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my face away. “No, I’m—” But two rough fingers captured my chin and tugged my face back.
Shehryar’s stern gaze and hold kept me still. “You said yourself that they haven’t said anything to you about expectations. And I understand wanting your parents to be proud of you, but Mariyah, your parents wouldn’t be happy if your success came at the cost of your mental and physical health.”
His tone softened. “You say your parents helped you, but a lot of the work you really did yourself. They didn’t study for you or decide your career path. So, if you turned around and told themyou’ve realised this career isn’t for you anymore, I doubt they’d be disappointed that you tried hard and changed your mind. You achieved what you wanted, Mariyah, and just because you’re not sticking at it for the long run doesn’t make you any less of a high achiever than the rest of your family. If anything, it makes you more of an achiever if you dedicated so much of your time to something, worked in it, and then decided to move on to something else rather than doing it forever.”
I would never have thought it humanly possible for a heart to pound as hard as mine was.
Each beat was as steady and loud and bone-shaking as the previous one. I could feel it right in the base of my throat, all the way down to the tips of my trembling fingers.
For someone who didn’t like me, he had a way of making his words sound so sincere and confident.
But for someone who didn’t like him, I was mesmerised by his integrity, his support.By him.
“And,” he rasped, drawing the pad of his thumb in a circle over my chin, “I don’t think you’re a spoiled, rich kid—”
I let out a soft grunt, the sound more muddled than spiteful. “Bullshit. You said—”
“I know what I said.” A glowing warmth glazed over his eyes as he traced his thumb under the curve of my bottom lip. My heart tripped forward, and I sucked in a silent breath and held it in.
Everything seemed to go quiet as if a soundproof bubble formed around us. The cold November breeze of Touma faded into fuzzy warmth. And the bustle of moving people blurred out of focus.
“But…” His throat visibly bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m beginning to realise I was wrong.”
I was standing in the middle of a racecourse as Thoroughbreds galloped past me. That’s how loudly my heart bucked andbounced. All my senses were focused on the consuming sensation.
My mind whirled before something collided into it and tumbled between my ribs.
My lungs collapsed inwards.
Fucking Neves…
The irritated feeling churning in me, the flapping bird that bashed around…
It wasn’t lost and I wasn’t irritated.
It was that catching feelings bubbling, twisting, agonising sensation. Where my heart was standing on the edge, tipping back and forth on the balls of its feet, deciding whether to jump or not.
It was anticipation and hope.
It was standing with him by the river, his hand clasped around my wrist, pulling me close, eyes on my lips…before everything fell apart.
Just like that dread punched me in the guts.
No, no. No. Not again.
This felt all too familiar and uncomfortable. The pancakes. The close proximity. The bubble.
The moment.
