“But—”
“You just so happen to see the very best of us, C. We don’t tend to show you all the nasty sides of our personalities. But just because you don’t see them, it doesn’t mean they’re not there. Jonah is quite capable of a move like this—and, if I weren’t the intended victim, I’d congratulate him on his deviousness because I’m capable of just such a move, too.”
“Are you saying that he only wanted to marry me because it’d hurt you?”
“He wants to marry you because you’re his Connection and he loves you more than anything else in the worlds,” Kellan says calmly. “But he also wanted to put me in my place.”
I just can’t accept this. “But—”
“I’ve always known you two are going to get married.” He looks away. “I knew this in Costa Rica, even when I tried to delude myself differently, but I suppose I always believed I’d have time to work myself up to the reality. I’ll never be okay with it, but at least it wouldn’t be like a suicide bombing that appears out of nowhere. That’s what Jonah was banking on. Hit me out of the blue so the damage was a thousand times worse.”
I feel like throwing up. “You must hate me.”
“No.” He lowers his head towards me. “And I don’t hate him, either. I could strangle him right now, but I certainly don’t hate him. I don’t think it’s possible to hate someone you’re Connected to.”
“Why did you go to Cora?”
He laughs mirthlessly. “Jonah knows when I’m within fifty feet. The moment he would’ve felt me in the Transit Station, he would’ve doubled his efforts to get you out of there. Cora was a much easier alternative.” His smile is rueful. “Let’s just say he likes Cora just as much as me nowadays.”
I figured as much.
The cramping, spasming, and all of the other awful things that my stomach has been doing over the last couple of months hit me like a tidal wave. I’m nauseated and upset and angry all at the same time.
This is what they’re doing to each other, and it’s all because of me.
All of this coming from me startles him. “Chloe, you need to sit down.”
“No.” I hold out a hand. “No. Just . . . just give me a minute.”
It’s hard to process that Jonah had gone so far in some kind of angry fit towards his brother. To purposely hurt Kellan like that . . . well, it meant there had to be an unimaginable amount of anger.
Why was he so angry? Was it because I’d asked Kellan to come and get me in Hawaii, and not him? I just can’t wrap my mind around Jonah doing this to his twin brother. Who he just so happens to be Connected to.
Self-hatred is a piss poor emotion to have. It doesn’t do anything toward the betterment of a situation. But man, do I have a lot of self-hatred right now. “How are you doing?” I ask, rubbing my forehead.
He doesn’t have to verbalize it for me to know: he’s hurt, angry, and relieved all at the same time. And yet, he says softly, “How do you think I’m doing?”
Nothing I’m doing is helping. These two are devolving into bitter, vindictive fighting and I’m left carrying bags and bags of guilt and self-hatred.
I can only work on one person at a time. I grab his arm. “Let’s go.”
“Go?” he asks, but he follows me without resistance.
“Go. As in leave. Exit. Find another location to occupy.”
“If I’m not mistaken, aren’t you supposed to be meeting my brother shortly?”
I stop suddenly. “How do you know that, if you two aren’t talking?”
“I may be out of the loop, but I’m not stupid, C.”
I take out my cell phone when I resume walking and text Jonah, knowing he’s in class still. Something’s come up, can’t make lunch. See you tonight!
I hold it out so Kellan can see the message and say, “I’m hungry.”
I’m not; I’ll most likely puke anything that goes past my lips, but it’s a good enough excuse to keep moving.
An eyebrow quirks up past the dark glasses, because he knows I’m lying through my teeth. But, being the gentleman he is, he asks, “Where would you like to go?”
“I want shaved ice.”
“Shave ice.”
“Whatever! Like it matters if there’s a d or not!”
“It matters to the Hawaiians,” he insists, but I shoot him an evil enough look that he quickly adds, “Shave ice it is.”
I let the call that comes half an hour later go to voicemail because I simply cannot deal with Jonah blowing up at his brother for humoring me and my need to escape to Hawaii. Again. But I do text him, outright lying as I claim I’m hanging with Callie. He avoids her like the plague, unless it’s family dinner night, and then he always positions himself as far away from her at the table as possible. I think he’s afraid that I still worry about the two of them; but while I know Callie is still desperately in love with him, I also realize she understands they’re over and never happening again.