At the mention of Lawrence, his expression darkens with hate. “I could’ve given you the world, Blaire. I fucking loved you.”
Tears sting my eyes, pain settling deep within my chest. “No, you couldn’t have. But Lawrence can.”
Then I break into a run, seeking the solace of the party before I have a chance to make a fool of myself and beg him to take me back.
Ronan
I sag defeatedly against the trunk of a tree as she runs away from me. Shaken, I reach for my pack of cigarettes, open it, grab another one, and place it loosely between my lips. As I’m lighting it, I notice dispassionately how badly my hands are shaking. I bite my lip after taking a deep drag and blowing out the smoke. Hope and fear that the trace of her flavor is gone from my mouth blend as one, but I can still taste her and it’s fucking torture.
Fuck.
When I make it back inside the house, I go in search of Rachel. I find her talking to Alan and Loretta Vanderhall, the smile on her lovely face stiff and unnatural. Ah, she knows.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I whisper in her ear, “Want to get out of here?”
She places her hand on top of mine, nodding. As we walk toward the exit of the house, she says hollowly, “She’s lovely, Ronan.”
“Don’t give her another thought. She’s part of the past.” I stare at her and grab her hand, bringing it to my lips and kissing it. “I’m looking at the future, and that’s all that matters.”
That next morning, I quit work and give Carl a call. My first interview will be with the Times magazine, and it’s set to take place in two weeks.
I will forget you, Blaire. I will. I will conquer my love for you even if it costs me my own soul.
Blaire
I MAKE MY WAY BACK to the party in search of Lawrence, except I don’t want him to hold me anymore; the magical moment we shared on the dance floor forgotten. I don’t have it in me to continue fooling myself, not when every fiber in my body is begging me to go back to the garden. Not when my skin still tingles with the memory of being in Ronan’s arms after going so long without him.
The large trees surrounding the garden seem to be closing in on me, making me feel claustrophobic. I begin to walk faster toward the warm light of the house, a light that promises temporary shelter from all the darkness surrounding me. For a brief moment, I hope that my feet will carry me to a place where binding memories don’t exist, where I can be free of my past. But then again, running away, or wanting to escape, won’t solve a thing. It’s not my past that holds me prisoner. It’s my fucking heart.
I pause when I spot Lawrence. Sorrow for him, for us, fills me. My feet feel as though they are stuck to the ground. I take a few moments to compose myself and try to hide the tempest raging inside me behind the perfect fa?ade. He lifts his head and smiles that rare, earth-shattering smile of his as his gaze connects with mine. When I can’t return the gesture, his disappears.
I’m so sorry, Lawrence. So sorry. I told you I was not worthy of anything good. I’m poison.
I look away from Lawrence, afraid that he will see through me. That’s when I observe Ronan walking back from the garden. His face is set in a hard line but he remains as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so now because I know he isn’t mine. I’m not the only woman in the room who notices him, either. Far from it actually. Desirous eyes everywhere follow his trajectory. His step is easy and sensual and so different from before. My mind tells me that he’s the same man that made me believe in summertime and sunshine but as I stare at him, I know that man is gone and has been replaced by this stranger.
I want to scratch my eyes out when he wraps an arm around his companion’s waist possessively and brings their bodies close together. The intimate gesture suggests that he knows every inch of her, and well. And the way she’s watching him shows that she is, too, blinded by his light and everything that he is. My head spins while my chest contracts with such incapacitating pain that I find it hard to breathe.
Ronan …
Yeah, babe?
What happens when this ends?
It won’t.
It will. Everything ends.
I know it won’t, and you know why?
I don’t, but tell me. Make me believe, Ronan.
He takes my hand in his, uncurls my fingers, and places my palm on his chest. You feel this, Blaire? It’s yours and it will always be. That’s why.
Feeling faint, I place a hand on the wall next to me for support as the realization that I drove him away and into the arms of someone else assails me. It serves me right that he’s moved on.
“You’re making a fool of yourself. Stop staring at him,” I hear Lawrence hiss angrily in my ear as he wraps his hand around my upper arm, his fingers constricting.
“Go away, Lawrence,” I beg. “Please leave me alone.”
“He came with someone else, Blaire. Let him go.”