I told myself that I wasn’t going to push him. If Maddox refused to go now, after my attempt to convince him, I’d leave it be. I’d remove the dress, text Savannah and tell her we weren’t coming. Then, I’d get in bed with Maddox.
Just because Savannah pleaded with me nicely, I wasn’t going to force Maddox.
But then…
Maddox wrenched his arm away. and I stumbled back, almost falling on my ass. He raked his fingers through his hair and glowered at me. “It’s not about me. I don’t care about the gala! I’ll go, for fuck’s sake. But I don’t want you there.”
Something happened.
Something snapped in my chest.
“What?” I breathed. “Maddox, what are you talking about? Why can’t I go?
His head lowered and fixed me with an intense, crazed look. “Because I don’t want you anywhere near them! You don’t belong there.”
I flinched, and my heart dropped to my feet, laying there… cold. “Right. Because I’m not filthy rich.”
His back snapped straight, and his whole body tensed. His face hardened, and his jaw twitched, as a flash of regret pooled in his blue eyes. “Lila,” he groaned, as if he was in pain. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
No, I didn’t know what he meant. He was so goddamn confusing. Every day I had to deal with his mood swings: his hot and cold attitude.
I was sick and tired of him, keeping me in the dark and treating me any differently than before, when I had been just his friend – his best friend.
Now that we were more, everything had changed.
Maddox had changed.
And I didn’t know how to deal with it.
It hurt, watching him slowly pull away from me.
“Guess what, Maddox?” I stabbed a finger into his chest. “I don’t care if I don’t belong in your world. You are mine, and if I have to weather a storm for you, I will. Even if I go there and all I get are dirty looks, as these people stand there and judge me, I’ll deal with it. Because you are mine, and I will stand by your side. For you.”
Maddox stood there, like a goddamn statue. Fists clenching, jaw twitching, eyes dark and pained. Harsh realization dawned on me, and I suddenly felt sick. The voices in his head and the demons he carried on his shoulders were winning. They were stealing my Maddox from me.
What is wrong with you? I wanted to scream but held back.
I grabbed my purse and stalked past him. “Your mom told us not to be late. We better get going.”
I walked out, without waiting for his response. My heart hammered in my chest, as I counted the minutes.
One... Two… Three… Four….
Fifteen…
Fifteen minutes later, Maddox climbed into the car, dressed in the black tuxedo suit I had laid out for him. We didn’t say a word to each other. Not for the length of the thirty-minute car ride.
Coldness seeped through me and acid ran through my veins, as the tension between us grew so thick, I could barely breathe.
As the car came to a stop, my stomach turned, nausea building in my throat. We got out, still not speaking to each other. An apology was on the tip of my tongue, for pushing him harder than I should have, but I never got a chance.
The moment we walked through the double, wooden doors of the venue… all eyes were on us. That was the thing about the Coulters. They were always the center of attention.
Maddox grasped my hand and brought it to his elbow. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “Don’t leave my side, please.”
What was he so worried about? Yes, this was out of my comfort zone, but it wasn’t my first time attending one of these fancy parties. In fact, we attended a charity gala just about six months ago.
The same one that led us to skinny dipping in the ocean…
Maddox tensed as his father walked over to us. “You came,” he simply said, with a nod of acknowledgment in my direction. If I wasn’t mistaken, I saw a silent thank you in his eyes.
Tonight, Brad Coulter looked… different. Wary… tired, like he was carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders.
Too soon, we were surrounded by business partners and acquaintances. They were all interested in Maddox and what his plans were, meaning when he was joining the family business. We were approached left and right… and I was jostled and soon forgotten.
I slipped from Maddox’s arms, and Savannah was by my side immediately. I breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar face. She grasped my arm and pulled me to a quiet corner, handing me a glass of wine. “I was just like you when I was around your age. We rarely fit in places like this. I remember the first time I attended a gala; it was quite overwhelming.” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
Huh? She didn’t fit in? What the hell?
“I don’t understand,” I said, taking a slow sip of the white wine.
Savannah fixated on me. “Neither me nor Brad were born into a rich family,” she started, and I blinked, my jaw slackened. “Brad didn’t live with a silver spoon in his mouth, like you’d think. In fact, when he was a teenager, he lived several months on the street. He was that poor. Everything you see today, everything he has – his empire, his legacy, he built it with his bare hands. He didn’t happen to inherit his wealth.”
That was news. What the hell? I almost had whiplash from this new discovery.
My eyes found Maddox, and I saw the grimace on his face, as people hounded him. He said something, and they laughed, oblivious to his discomfort. “I didn’t know that. Maddox…”
“Neither does Maddox,” she confirmed. “He doesn’t know a lot of things.”
I was so… confused.
Savannah was acting unlike herself, talkative and sharing information I never thought she would. Brad acknowledged me for the first time today.
They were acting almost like they… cared.
Did they come to the sudden realization of just what kind of shit parents they were?
Savannah must have noticed the look on my face, because she gave me a tight smile. “I know how it looks. But, Lila, his father loves him.”
Ha, that was the joke of the century. She could have almost fooled me if I, myself, hadn’t seen the way Brad treated Maddox. He was neither a caring nor a loving father.
“Well, he has a shitty way of showing it.” I speared her with a look that said I wasn’t falling for her bullshit. “So do you. You’re his mother. You should have done a better job.”
“I know,” she nodded solemnly, “but it’s too late now, isn’t it?”
“It’s never too late.”
“For Maddox, it is. I just wished–”
“What?” I asked, my heart tripping over itself, when she fell silent.
“I wished I could go back and change the past. But then…”
“Then?”
She smiled and patted my hand. “He probably wouldn’t have met you then.”
That was a strange way of putting it and an easy way out for her. I was about to tell her what exactly I thought of such a shitty excuse, when another voice joined us.
“Savannah,” a sing-song voice called out. “There you are, Dear.”
A woman joined us in the corner, looking just as prim and proper as Maddox’s mother. Another elite wife.