with the rejection all over again. It was easier to just be mad, because I was afraid of what my heart would do if I even heard his lovely voice or saw his… Nope, not even going to think about it. When I'd hear him leave, I had to fight the urge to run after him. So I cried instead.
'Good to see you out of your room,' Mom said one morning when I slouched into the kitchen. She was about to leave for the store. 'It's only been nearly a week. You look like hell.'
'A week ?' I couldn't believe I'd wasted so much time being miserable.
She looked at me with concern. 'Maybe you could at least go to the beach or something. I bet you'd like that. It would make you feel better.'
'Yeah, maybe,' I mumbled. I doubted it would make me feel better. I loved the beach, but it happened to be where I had a lot of memories I didn't want to stir up.
Mom left as I sipped a cup of coffee, staring at the cream-colored kitchen walls and trying not to think. I eventually poured a bowl of cereal I really didn't want. I took a couple bites and watched the rest turn to mush when there was a knock at the door. I stiffened in my chair. It could only be one person. I panicked. I couldn't slip to my room without him seeing me through the door glass. I didn't want to answer it, but he'd become familiar enough to usually enter on his own. I leaned over in my chair to peer around the corner at the door. Whew .
'Hey, Owen,' I muttered when I opened the door.
'Hey, Alexis. You, uh, look like hell.'
I still wore pajama bottoms and a tank top, my hair pulled up in a sloppy pony. I could only imagine how red and swollen my face was.
'Nice to see you, too,' I said. I peered at him and noticed bruises all over his arms. 'You look like hell, too. What happened to you?'
I reached my hand out to his arm, stopping just before touching the purplish marks. He cleared his throat. 'That would be, uh, your boyfriend…or fiance…or whatever he is.'
'Ex,' I mumbled under my breath. But then it hit me what he was saying. 'Oh, my! Tristan did that to you? What on earth for ?'
He chuckled. 'We sparred at the gym. He's just been, um, a little aggressive lately. No one else will even spar with him anymore. And I'm pretty sure he's holding back.'
Well, yeah, or he would've killed you. I felt horrible for Owen—normal Owen who had no idea how bad it could've been and he couldn't even heal himself.
I sighed. 'I'm really sorry, Owen. I think you're getting the brunt of…our break up.'
'I can take it. Rather me than someone else,' he mumbled.
I waved for him to come in and he followed me into the kitchen. 'Mom left like an hour ago. Do you need something?'
'No, actually, I just stopped by to see how you're doing.'
I spun around, surprised. 'Well, I've had better weeks, but I'll be fine.'
He smiled. I'd never really paid attention to how nice his smile was. In fact, looking at him now was like looking at him for the first time. I realized he was actually kind of attractive. I also knew he was a good, sweet guy. I thought maybe someday, when I put myself somewhat back together, we could at least be friends. Real friends who hung out and did things.
Then I remembered Tristan was the only person who hadn't fled when he learned the truth about me. I swallowed hard, fighting tears down, not wanting Owen to see me cry.
'No visitors?' he asked.
'Uh, no.' Why would he want to know that?
'Okay.' Awkward silence. 'Would you, uh, want to go to the beach or something…maybe…sometime?'
He must have been asking if Tristan, specifically, had visited. I wondered if he was afraid of him, knowing what just a small bit of Tristan's wrath felt like.
'Um, I don't know right now, actually. I've been ignoring my book and…'
'Yeah, that's cool. I understand.' He smiled weakly. We stood there awkwardly, then his head cocked and his eyes seemed distant for a brief moment. He headed for the door. 'Well, uh, you're okay here?'
I smiled and thought my cheeks would crack from the falsity of it. 'Yeah, I'll be fine.'
'Okay.' He didn't seem convinced, but didn't press it.
'Very weird,' I muttered to myself after he left. Over time, we'd become a lot friendlier at the store, but nothing more. He came around sometimes to fix something around the house, but we never talked; I was always shut in my room, writing. I wondered what prompted him to stop by and just check up on me. He hadn't done that since Mom had left town that one weekend. I figured he was just trying to be a friend, worried after seeing the whole thing go down at the pub.
I headed to the kitchen to dump my soggy cereal. There was another knock and the door opened.
'What now, Owen?'
I took two steps into the hallway and ran into—electric pulses through my body— Tristan. My stomach rolled and fell to my thighs.
'Oh,' I breathed. We both stopped dead. Mmm…he smells so good. I couldn't look at his face, though, so I stared at the floor. He put his thumb under my chin—more electric shocks—and lifted my face, forcing me to look at him.
'You look like hell,' he said. I pulled my face away and headed back into the kitchen.
'Yeah, that's what I've been told.' I turned and glared at him, then said harshly, 'You can thank yourself for that.'
He scowled. 'I do blame myself,' he muttered.
He didn't look too good either. Still beautiful, just…wrong.
'You look like hell, too,' I said.
He looked down at the box he held. 'I brought this over for you.'
He held the brown box out to me. I didn't take it.
'I don't want anything from you,' I said coldly. His face broke, sadness overcoming it. Why am I acting like this? I couldn't look at him so I grabbed my bowl of soggy cereal from the table and took it over to the sink.
'It's your stuff,' he mumbled. He set it on the table. 'I was going through things before I started packing.'
I whirled on him, dirty milk sloshing everywhere.
'You're packing ?' Panic squeezed my chest.
'Yes, I'm moving.'
'You're moving ?' The bowl fell out of my hands and clamored into the sink. I couldn't breathe. Don't leave me! I swallowed hard to push down the lump in my throat. I thought it was my heart. I fought back tears, refusing to let him see me cry again.
'I shouldn't be around here.' He studied my face, tried to look into my eyes, but I looked away, afraid of what he might see. He added quietly, 'And, I guess there's nothing to stay for.'
Me! Stay here for me! You can't leave me! I took a deep breath. I hoped he didn't hear how ragged it was…or that he did. And then I hoped he'd see the tears fighting to break so he'd know how I felt without my having to say it. Then I was scared of his reaction…or non-reaction. That he wouldn't care.
'Oh,' I finally said, not able to say anything else, because if I did, it would only result in more rejection and pain.
'Are you okay?' he asked.
'No,' I said honestly. He scowled again. 'But I'll be fine. No permanent damage done, I'm sure.'
Liar! Pain flashed across his eyes and then he composed himself.
'Yeah, of course. Well, I guess I'll leave you alone.' He lifted my chin with his thumb again and gazed into my eyes. I couldn't even see the specks of gold in his, they were so dim. No sparkle at all. I could feel the tears again. His eyes softened and he looked so sincere when he said it… 'I do love you, ma lykita . Forever.'
Before I could even blink, he was out the door. I stood there in shock for several beats. Oh, God! I bolted for the door, threw it open and ran outside.
' Tristan! ' I yelled.
He was already gone.
