“I don’t know,” she whispers. She does a good job of hiding her emotion because her voice is totally flat. “I didn’t even look him up. I didn’t want to know. Someone my dad wanted to do business with—if you can even believe that. They wanted to parcel me up as part of a business deal. It was crazy. They were just talking and talking and talking, and I zoned out after the first few sentences. I didn’t even hear what they were saying. I just knew I had to get out of there. It was so shocking because I never thought they’d do…well, anyway…I thought they loved me. And I do know they love me and care about me, which is why it was so unlike them to even think of something like that.”
“Maybe they just wanted you both to meet? They probably wouldn’t have forced you into it if they love you.”
“I…I don’t know. I tuned out and refused to listen to the rest. It was too crazy to even contemplate, no matter what their intentions were.”
“If it was out of character, maybe they just wanted you to consider the idea, or they thought you’d agree if you liked the guy. Or maybe it’s easier to get married if you don’t love someone.”
“Why? So, they can’t hurt you? I guess. I…I did…fuck!”
I lift my head a fraction but don’t look at her. We seem to be doing better with talking without making eye contact. “What?”
“I had a bad break up last year. The guy I was dating was a dick. He probably was from the start, but he kept it conveniently hidden for quite a while. He was basically just after me for my money. He was using me, and when I found out, it hurt so much. I told my parents it would be easier for me if they just found me an arranged marriage. That way, I wouldn’t have to go through it all again. I also had uh…a few bad relationships before that—a few bad experiences. I never loved any of them, but it still hurt to be treated badly, let down, used, and even cheated on once. It just…it sucked. But I didn’t mean it. Oh my god, do you think they thought I meant it?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“I was acting crazy at the time! I mean, I was really upset. Like, really upset. You don’t think…”
“I really don’t know.”
“Oh my god!” I hear a whoosh and a thump, and I gather Feeney grabbed her pillow off the other side of the bed and fell back with it over her face. She smothers the next sounds that come out of her mouth, so I assume they’re not worth hearing. She hates swearing, but it’s probably all filthy words.
“Maybe you should talk to them?” I suggest when she’s silent. “Maybe the guy isn’t so bad. Maybe he’s…maybe he’s actually quite normal and decent, and you could grow to like each other.”
“No. I’m not ready. I’m not going to call them.”
I let out a long exhale. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath in for the past—I don’t know—the whole time I’ve been in here? Why does it feel like I can breathe now? Because we talked? Because for now, Feeney is staying here with us? With Shade and me? Because she’s thinking about the stuff going on in her life now, and it makes me feel better?
Maybe she has so much shit going on in her own life that me lying here prone on the carpet, pouring out the darkest essence of my soul to her, at midnight, in her room, after creeping at her door, doesn’t seem so weird to her.
This is seriously fucked up.
I can’t do this. And not just tonight. I don’t know if I can do it at all.
“I uh…thanks.” I shove to my feet so fast that I give myself a head rush. “I should probably go…”
Feeney lowers the pillow from her face. She looks very pale, her eyes are huge, and her cheeks are ashen. God, she’s beautiful. She looks sad, lost, alone, and slightly scared. I wish I could offer her some kind of comfort, but I probably look like a wreck too. Strangely enough, I wish we could just wrap ourselves up in each other’s arms and hold each other and not be lonely anymore. Like we did last night. But no. She said she didn’t want that. She might have kissed me back, but she said she didn’t want it, and holding each other can’t just be platonic. I know it can’t because what happened last night was explosive and potent. It was jarring, shocking, and dangerous.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Have a good sleep.”
“Are you going to be able to sleep now?”
She starts chewing on her bottom lip, more uncertain than ever. “I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.”
“Well, have fun tossing and turning and churning over all the bullshit that is piling up. I’m going to do the same.”
That makes me smile and want to laugh. I think my lips are turning up because Feeney’s do too. Maybe smiles are like yawns—slightly contagious.
“Goodnight, then.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
She lets me walk out and close her door without any lectures about the creeping, being weird on her floor, or any of it.
She’s too nice. But Feeney’s right. Despite everything I thought about her, despite how she was raised, despite being super-rich, she turned out fine and normal like everyone else. Wait, no, not normal, and also not like everyone else. She’s way too nice to be like everyone else. She has a huge heart that she’s not afraid to let show, which is why she was hurt and used in the past. Because all assholes, like me, are attracted to that. We want the best parts of her to fix the worst parts of us.
I’m no better than any of those assholes out there who hurt her before because I’m lying to her and using her too. At least, I was, but then again, I’m still lying though I’m not using her. I don’t want to use her. That part is over. It was never really part of the bargain.
Fuck me. I just wanted someone there for Shade—someone permanent who would love him as his mother would have. I didn’t want anything for myself. I thought I could somehow make it work, but I should have known better. I should have known I’d want just a fraction of something good for me too. Not just for Shade.
All this just proves I am the world’s biggest idiot.
CHAPTER 15
Feeney
I’m confused. But I shouldn’t be confused because all of this should be quite straightforward.
Luke is my boss, and he’s Shade’s dad. He might be pretty, but he’s just to look at and not touch.
So, no, it’s not straightforward.
It’s after New Year’s now. January third. I didn’t go out to celebrate with any of my friends like I might have done in the past. I didn’t go to Sam’s house party, and she didn’t beg me to. My parents still don’t have my number, so I haven’t called them. But they know I’m okay, which is all that needs to matter right now. I do miss them, but I’m not ready to talk yet. It hasn’t been enough time.
Luke’s been burying himself in work. When he comes home now at the end of the day, he hangs out with Shade after dinner, the same as before, but I can tell he’s different. He doesn’t look at me like he hates having me in the house or like he’s waiting for me to trip up so he can find enjoyment from it. He’s much more civil now. Honestly, he looks tired each day, like he’s purposefully trying to exhaust himself at work. He also doesn’t look at me with any desire, which I appreciate.