Which technically means I ought to call or see Kellan so I can tell him straight up about the decision. But, being the coward I am, I’ve made sure there’s absolutely no time to have that discussion.
I figure he must know we’re back in town; after all, he and Jonah talk to each other constantly. At least, I’m assuming they’re still talking to each other, but lately I’m not so sure. Because during our entire trip in Tahiti and the subsequent week home, Jonah hasn’t mentioned his brother’s name once, which is bizarre. So strange, in fact, it’s never happened before. When they weren’t hanging out with each other at the end of high school and the first few months we lived in Annar, Jonah still talked about his brother. Still talked, their way, to him. But this last week and a half?
It’s like he doesn’t even have a brother.
I don’t know what to make of it, and frankly, I’m too nervous to bring it up considering Jonah is mostly acting like normal. And yet, despite being good with the decision that I’m going to marry Jonah, I miss Kellan so much it hurts. Physically, literally hurts.
How can one person be so goddamn happy and miserable at the same time?
My class gets out early; the professor is called away for what I can only assume is an imaginary emergency (since it happens more often than not this semester), leaving everyone to burst through the doors towards freedom with forty minutes of so-called lecture (i.e. internet surfing) left to spare.
I’m supposed to meet Jonah; we’re going to go have lunch at a café I’ve been dying to try out now that my appetite has semi-returned, but as he’s still in his one so-called class, I decide to head out to the quad and work on my golden tan achieved in Tahiti.
Before I can do so, though, a familiar profile coming out of a building across the way catches my eye. All of my hesitations about talking to him go flying out the window because I simply cannot resist getting my Kellan fix.
We stare at each other with loopy, matching grins as we meet halfway in the quad. And when we both finally decide to speak, it’s at the same time.
“You first,” he offers after we both stop talking. For some reason, this makes me take a step closer, which I shouldn’t be doing, considering my recent decision to get married within the month, but it’s no use.
I absolutely cannot resist Kellan Whitecomb. And that’s the real problem, isn’t it?
Nor can I lie to him. So I give him the two words that he and his brother hear far too often from my lips. I ought to just get them tattooed on my forehead: “I’m sorry.”
The grin slips away, but he doesn’t move his eyes off of mine. My stomach churns as I, for the millionth time, curse Fate for the crummy hand it’s dealt me.
“I know it wasn’t your idea.” His anger and disappointment are palpable, but I know they’re not angled at me. Kellan’s furious at his brother.
Why he doesn’t blame me is unfathomable, but then, don’t they tend to always blame each other and not me? Which is grossly unfair because even I know that I’m the sole cause of pain in this trio. No Chloe means no friction between brothers.
“Don’t be mad at him,” I say quietly.
“Why wouldn’t I be mad, C?”
“It’s not like he did this to hurt you!”
His lips quirk up at one corner. “Is that what you think?”
Everything around me grinds to a halt. “Excuse me?”
He tugs his dark sunglasses on so the one part of his face that ever gives me the smallest glimpse of his emotions is effectively shielded. “Nothing. Forget I said that.”
“No. Explain what you meant.”
He tilts his head to one side. “Do you really want me to tell you?”
“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have asked.”
He rocks back on his heels, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Fine. I happen to know all this came about simply because he wanted to put me in my place. He’s royally pissed off at me but won’t tell me why. All I know is he’s so mad he won’t even speak to me anymore and the last time we were in the same room we came—” He catches himself. “Almost came to blows.”
“Whaaat?”
“Marrying you would’ve been his checkmate move against me. His response to whatever I’ve done that’s angered him.”
I refuse to believe this. “You must be mistaken.”
“No. I’m not.” He’s inscrutable behind his dark glasses. “Sometimes we’re able to tell each other things that we may not necessarily want to reveal. It’s sort of like surging, but mostly come about when we’re tired or asleep. We don’t have any control over it. I saw the whole thing in his mind, C. I know it was his idea. I saw the entire reasoning behind it, how he knew it’d be like throwing a grenade at me.”
I fumble for rational words. “But . . . but . . . Jonah? He’s not like that!”
Kellan laughs grimly under his breath. “He is exactly like that.”