“Chloe . . . if you’re not ready, I can go back to my office and call in to the meeting today.”
I tear my eyes from the glimmering glare of glass on the front door to Guard HQ approximately twenty feet away. Jonah’s been quiet for most of the walk from my apartment to where we’re supposed to have a meeting in fifteen minutes. “What? Don’t be silly. Why would you do that?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair. “You know why.”
He’s right. Today the Guard and the Elders Subcommittee are convening; it’s the first meeting we’ll both be in attendance for since getting back together several days ago. At least forty-to-fifty members of both the Guard and Council will be present, plus several Métis who came back with Erik just for the occasion. While this is daunting enough, we’re not worried about any of them.
It’s Kellan’s presence that has my stomach in knots.
For the moment, Jonah is still living with Kellan in his apartment, and from what he’s told me, a conversation occurred between the brothers after Jonah and I decided to give our relationship another try. It went . . . badly, which is both surprising and predictable all at the same time. Jonah tried to talk me off the ledge I quickly placed myself on when I heard they nearly came to blows, explaining that, rationally, they both understand the situation; it’s just, Connections aren’t always reasonable. If they were, I would never have run away, nor would have Kellan. Jonah wouldn’t have shut down. Kellan, Jonah assured me, meant everything that he had promised that night on the roof. It’s just . . . it’s going to take some time.
Everything always takes time—the one thing we are forced to suffer through with no hopes of fast-forward or rewind. Like a cruel mistress, time marches forward with no regard to feelings. All we can do is follow and pray that each second we live through gets easier like promised.
Before we get to the door, I whisper, “I don’t want to hurt him.” And myself. And Jonah.
Jonah sighs and gently steers me toward the wall. “He knows that.” I can’t see his eyes behind the dark plastic of his glasses, but I’m positive they’re filled with just as much guilt as mine are.
I lean my head back against the textured stones of the grandiose building behind us. “Is he aware we’ll both be here?”
“Yeah.” Jonah’s just as hushed as I am.
I ask what’s pressing heavily against my heart. “Will there ever be a day in which we won’t have to worry about hurting him? Or hurting ourselves?” Or me not wanting his brother so much that it clouds my judgment?
He gently touches my cheek. “I don’t know, honey.”
I bite my lip and look up. The sky is hard to see here in this part of Annar, where all the building reach high and lean toward Karnach. “I tried to break the Connection to him once in Alaska. Right after I called you.”
His intake of air is sharp.
“I was . . . gods. Miserable. Freaking out. It occurred to me that maybe I could will away Connections if I tried.” My smile is bittersweet. “It killed me to try it, but . . . all I could think was how I couldn’t tie either of you down to me any longer. How it wasn’t fair to you guys, that you deserved a better life. I had a few shots of whiskey and then tried to break the one to him first.”
His head tilts away, like he’s peering into one of the windows nearby. “And . . .?”
I shove wispy strands of hair freed by the light breeze caressing Annar back behind my ear. “And . . . I felt even worse than before. Like I punched myself in the heart. I had another shot and tried again, but all I ended up doing was making myself so miserable I ended up drowning in whiskey.”
He’s unbearably quiet when he asks, “Did you try ours?”
It hurts like hell to do it, but I tell him the truth. “Had it worked with Kellan, I would have.”
Twelve breaths pulled in and out of my chest occur before he speaks. “We tried to influence each other when you were gone. Make it so the other didn’t feel the Connection’s pain, so we didn’t care you were gone, or that we even loved you at all. Or perhaps even convince ourselves that we could move on, love somebody else.”
Gods, that hurts to hear. I’d hoped for something like that, of course, but it doesn’t stop the pain of the knife to the chest any less.
“Did it work?” I barely whisper.
He shakes his head slowly, his hand clenching repeatedly by his side. It’s the first time since reuniting that I’ve seen him do that.
“You two coming?”