She seemed confused by my words and my actions. Was I really so confusing? She was the one who was hard to understand. She loved Denny, but she looked at me like I was something special. While she went about finishing the coffee, I thought about Bumbershoot. That day had been amazing. The way we’d held each other, the way she’d sought my comfort. It was almost like Denny hadn’t even existed. What had changed? Or was she using me even back then? No, she’d cared…the talks we’d had, the way she listened to my music, my lyrics, the way she’d pried into my soul. She had cared. Maybe she still did. Maybe she was torn, confused, overwhelmed. Maybe she was hurting, and I just wasn’t seeing it.
When the coffee was done, she grabbed two mugs from the cabinet. Heart in my hands, I risked a question that could lead to a really hard conversation. But maybe it was time we had a hard conversation. We’d never talked about us. We’d always ignored the things that had happened. I couldn’t ignore this though. I needed to know if I meant anything to her.
“Are you…okay?” I asked. It was a loaded question, a stupid question. I should have just manned up and asked her what I really wanted to know. What am I to you?
She gave me a bright, chipper smile. “Yes, I’m great.”
Her face, her words, they confirmed everything I’d already known. I didn’t mean a goddamn thing to her. I felt like I was going to be sick right here at the table. I laid my arms down and buried my head in them. She was great…and I wished I’d never been born. I could feel my eyes water, so I concentrated on my breathing. I was not about to give her the satisfaction of seeing my pain. My emotional pain, anyway. That was mine; she didn’t have a right to it.
I could hear her pouring the cups of coffee. I needed to mellow out, shove down the feelings bubbling up, threatening to devour me. She was Denny’s, I knew that. She’d used me; I was used to that. I could get over this. I had to. I needed help though. Even though I’d overdone it the last couple of nights, I needed alcohol. Twisting my head so my mouth was clear, I told Kiera, “Put a little Jack in that.” She smirked at me, like she thought I was joking. Did anything about me right now seem like I was kidding? She was causing me pain; I wanted to numb it. A few shots of Jack Daniels would do the trick. A equals B. The least she could do was humor me.
I raised my head. Struggling to remain polite, I told her, “Please.”
She sighed and muttered something that sounded like “Whatever,” and I laid my head back down. I didn’t need her to understand, I just needed her to comply.
I heard her rummaging through the liquor cabinet above the fridge. I didn’t move when she found the bottle and set it in front of me. She came back a moment later with the mug and set it in front of me too. I still didn’t move. After a second of my stillness, she poured some alcohol into my mug, then started to screw on the cap. I knew she wouldn’t pour nearly enough in, so without even looking, I coughed to get her attention, then motioned for more. She sighed, but she did it.
I lifted my head and, out of habit, I gave her a soft, “Thank you.” Thank you for ripping my heart out. Thank you for showing me something I can never have. Thank you for looking so beautiful this morning, it makes me want to tear my eyes out. Thank you for not seeing me as anything more than a release.
“Kellan…” she finally began. I took a long draw of coffee. Here we go…“The other night…” She stared at me while I stared back at her. Yes, the other night when I touched every inch of your body, dipped my tongue inside you, pushed myself into you over and over until you came around me…that night? Or did you have a different night in mind?
She cleared her throat, looking very uncomfortable. If sex makes you so uneasy, Kiera, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it. Especially when you don’t mean it. Finally, she murmured, “I just don’t want a…misunderstanding.”
I could feel my blood begin to boil as I took another long draw of coffee. Really? A misunderstanding? She was going to use my words against me? She was going to compare what we’d done to what I’d done with Joey? We’d had meaningless sex, and she was asking for nothing to change between us. She wanted us to go back to what we were before, so she and Denny could move forward with their happy ending. Nope, no misunderstanding. I meant nothing to her.
“Kiera…there are no misunderstandings between us,” I told her, my voice flat. There is nothing between us. There never was.
Chapter 11
Holding On to Anger
Denny came down a while later, and I quickly excused myself and got out of there. I couldn’t deal with Denny yet. I could barely deal with me. I kept shifting between anger, guilt, resignation, and sadness. I wasn’t sure where I’d finally end up. Except alone. That was pretty much a given.
Crawling into bed, I curled into a ball and tried to get some sleep, but it was elusive and kept avoiding me. I kept picturing Denny and Kiera together downstairs, happy and laughing as they exchanged hopes, dreams, and plans for their future. They were probably picking out a wedding date and baby names. They’d probably ask me to stand up with Denny while he married the woman I loved, and then they’d make me their sweet little baby’s godfather. Fuck my life.
I wondered if Kiera would tell Denny the truth before they walked down the aisle. I should find out what her intentions were, so I wasn’t blindsided by anything…like Denny’s fists. I should, but I didn’t want to talk to Kiera. Her joy was pissing me off. She didn’t have to flaunt how fucking happy she was. I got it. Denny completed her. Good for Team Australia.
I heard Denny leave the house, then heard Kiera getting ready for school. I needed some water, I needed a shower, but I didn’t want to face her. Once she left me alone, then I’d attempt to take care of myself.
When I heard her shuffling around the entryway, I knew she was on her way out. School was a ways off, but Denny had their car, so Kiera would need to catch the bus. Even if my car were here, I wouldn’t drive her to school today. A pang went through me that driving her around and walking her to class was over. I’d enjoyed that time together. It wasn’t real though. Why keep up a pretense just because it felt good on the surface? If she didn’t feel what I felt…what was the point?
I ambled downstairs when I heard the door open. On my way to the kitchen, I glanced out the window and saw Kiera standing there, staring at the empty driveway. Was she missing Denny already? He couldn’t be gone for five seconds without her falling apart? God.
She turned then, and saw me in the window staring at her. She started to wave, but I left before she could finish the pointless gesture. Don’t act like you care if you don’t.
Alone with my thoughts, I began to dwell. I couldn’t stop thinking about Kiera, and what we’d had, and what I’d wanted us to have in the future. I thought about Denny, our past and our friendship. One stupid, careless act had changed both relationships. If I’d just been stronger, pushed Kiera away when she’d needed comfort, none of this would be happening now. But I was weak. I’d needed her. I’d fallen for her. And now, we were all paying the price.
While I was still lounging on the couch, hoping to still my brain by filling it with images of meaningless TV shows, I heard the front door open. I didn’t know if it was Kiera or Denny. It didn’t really matter either. I’d called Griffin a while ago to get a ride to my car. He would be here soon, and then I could leave. Maybe I wouldn’t come back.
Like nothing was different, Kiera strolled into the room and sat down in the chair opposite the couch. I glanced over at her, then returned my eyes to the TV. She looked good, her hair curled, her makeup still fresh. She was the complete opposite of me. She looked like she was on top of the world, while emotionally and physically I felt like shit.
We were both silent, and kind of ignoring each other, when Kiera suddenly blurted out, “Who do you rent this place from?”
I kept my eyes glued to the TV. Really? That’s what you want to talk about right now? “I don’t. It’s mine,” I told her.
I could tell the curiosity was eating away at her. “Oh. How did you afford—”
She stopped herself from asking a question that seemed completely pointless and random. Why do you care? I wanted to ask. I didn’t though. That might open a door into a conversation about us, and I didn’t want to go there. Instead, I answered her unasked question. Kiera could still get me to open up, even when I’d rather be doing anything other than talking to her. “My parents. They died in a car crash a couple years ago. Left me their…palace. Only child and all…” That still haunted me. Did they care in the end, did they feel bad, or was it just another mistake in a long line of mistakes?
“Oh…I’m so sorry,” Kiera told me, genuinely looking guilty for bringing it up.
“Don’t be,” I told her. “It happens.” Lots of shit happens. And none of it matters.
Kiera’s curiosity still wasn’t satisfied. “Why do you rent the room then? I mean, if you own the house?”
I paused before answering her. For a second, I forgot that everything had changed between us, and I opened my mouth, prepared to tell her the truth. I don’t like living in an empty house. I like the company. You and I are alike that way. But then I remembered that things were different, and I closed my mouth. Her desire to never be alone had led her to use me as a source of comfort. I’d thought she was different, that we were different, but she’d used me just like all the others.