I could hear her pouring the cups of coffee. I needed to mellow out, shove down the feelings bubbling up, threatening to devour me. She was Denny’s, I knew that. She’d used me; I was used to that. I could get over this. I had to. I needed help though. Even though I’d overdone it the last couple of nights, I needed alcohol. Twisting my head so my mouth was clear, I told Kiera, “Put a little Jack in that.” She smirked at me, like she thought I was joking. Did anything about me right now seem like I was kidding? She was causing me pain; I wanted to numb it. A few shots of Jack Daniels would do the trick. A equals B. The least she could do was humor me.
I raised my head. Struggling to remain polite, I told her, “Please.”
She sighed and muttered something that sounded like “Whatever,” and I laid my head back down. I didn’t need her to understand, I just needed her to comply.
I heard her rummaging through the liquor cabinet above the fridge. I didn’t move when she found the bottle and set it in front of me. She came back a moment later with the mug and set it in front of me too. I still didn’t move. After a second of my stillness, she poured some alcohol into my mug, then started to screw on the cap. I knew she wouldn’t pour nearly enough in, so without even looking, I coughed to get her attention, then motioned for more. She sighed, but she did it.
I lifted my head and, out of habit, I gave her a soft, “Thank you.” Thank you for ripping my heart out. Thank you for showing me something I can never have. Thank you for looking so beautiful this morning, it makes me want to tear my eyes out. Thank you for not seeing me as anything more than a release.
“Kellan…” she finally began. I took a long draw of coffee. Here we go…“The other night…” She stared at me while I stared back at her. Yes, the other night when I touched every inch of your body, dipped my tongue inside you, pushed myself into you over and over until you came around me…that night? Or did you have a different night in mind?
She cleared her throat, looking very uncomfortable. If sex makes you so uneasy, Kiera, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it. Especially when you don’t mean it. Finally, she murmured, “I just don’t want a…misunderstanding.”
I could feel my blood begin to boil as I took another long draw of coffee. Really? A misunderstanding? She was going to use my words against me? She was going to compare what we’d done to what I’d done with Joey? We’d had meaningless sex, and she was asking for nothing to change between us. She wanted us to go back to what we were before, so she and Denny could move forward with their happy ending. Nope, no misunderstanding. I meant nothing to her.
“Kiera…there are no misunderstandings between us,” I told her, my voice flat. There is nothing between us. There never was.
Chapter 11
Holding On to Anger
Denny came down a while later, and I quickly excused myself and got out of there. I couldn’t deal with Denny yet. I could barely deal with me. I kept shifting between anger, guilt, resignation, and sadness. I wasn’t sure where I’d finally end up. Except alone. That was pretty much a given.
Crawling into bed, I curled into a ball and tried to get some sleep, but it was elusive and kept avoiding me. I kept picturing Denny and Kiera together downstairs, happy and laughing as they exchanged hopes, dreams, and plans for their future. They were probably picking out a wedding date and baby names. They’d probably ask me to stand up with Denny while he married the woman I loved, and then they’d make me their sweet little baby’s godfather. Fuck my life.
I wondered if Kiera would tell Denny the truth before they walked down the aisle. I should find out what her intentions were, so I wasn’t blindsided by anything…like Denny’s fists. I should, but I didn’t want to talk to Kiera. Her joy was pissing me off. She didn’t have to flaunt how fucking happy she was. I got it. Denny completed her. Good for Team Australia.
I heard Denny leave the house, then heard Kiera getting ready for school. I needed some water, I needed a shower, but I didn’t want to face her. Once she left me alone, then I’d attempt to take care of myself.
When I heard her shuffling around the entryway, I knew she was on her way out. School was a ways off, but Denny had their car, so Kiera would need to catch the bus. Even if my car were here, I wouldn’t drive her to school today. A pang went through me that driving her around and walking her to class was over. I’d enjoyed that time together. It wasn’t real though. Why keep up a pretense just because it felt good on the surface? If she didn’t feel what I felt…what was the point?