Thoughtful(60)

I ambled downstairs when I heard the door open. On my way to the kitchen, I glanced out the window and saw Kiera standing there, staring at the empty driveway. Was she missing Denny already? He couldn’t be gone for five seconds without her falling apart? God.

She turned then, and saw me in the window staring at her. She started to wave, but I left before she could finish the pointless gesture. Don’t act like you care if you don’t.

Alone with my thoughts, I began to dwell. I couldn’t stop thinking about Kiera, and what we’d had, and what I’d wanted us to have in the future. I thought about Denny, our past and our friendship. One stupid, careless act had changed both relationships. If I’d just been stronger, pushed Kiera away when she’d needed comfort, none of this would be happening now. But I was weak. I’d needed her. I’d fallen for her. And now, we were all paying the price.

While I was still lounging on the couch, hoping to still my brain by filling it with images of meaningless TV shows, I heard the front door open. I didn’t know if it was Kiera or Denny. It didn’t really matter either. I’d called Griffin a while ago to get a ride to my car. He would be here soon, and then I could leave. Maybe I wouldn’t come back.

Like nothing was different, Kiera strolled into the room and sat down in the chair opposite the couch. I glanced over at her, then returned my eyes to the TV. She looked good, her hair curled, her makeup still fresh. She was the complete opposite of me. She looked like she was on top of the world, while emotionally and physically I felt like shit.

We were both silent, and kind of ignoring each other, when Kiera suddenly blurted out, “Who do you rent this place from?”

I kept my eyes glued to the TV. Really? That’s what you want to talk about right now? “I don’t. It’s mine,” I told her.

I could tell the curiosity was eating away at her. “Oh. How did you afford—”

She stopped herself from asking a question that seemed completely pointless and random. Why do you care? I wanted to ask. I didn’t though. That might open a door into a conversation about us, and I didn’t want to go there. Instead, I answered her unasked question. Kiera could still get me to open up, even when I’d rather be doing anything other than talking to her. “My parents. They died in a car crash a couple years ago. Left me their…palace. Only child and all…” That still haunted me. Did they care in the end, did they feel bad, or was it just another mistake in a long line of mistakes?

“Oh…I’m so sorry,” Kiera told me, genuinely looking guilty for bringing it up.

“Don’t be,” I told her. “It happens.” Lots of shit happens. And none of it matters.

Kiera’s curiosity still wasn’t satisfied. “Why do you rent the room then? I mean, if you own the house?”

I paused before answering her. For a second, I forgot that everything had changed between us, and I opened my mouth, prepared to tell her the truth. I don’t like living in an empty house. I like the company. You and I are alike that way. But then I remembered that things were different, and I closed my mouth. Her desire to never be alone had led her to use me as a source of comfort. I’d thought she was different, that we were different, but she’d used me just like all the others.

My heart hardening back up, I turned back to the TV and told her a lie. “The extra money comes in handy.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say to her. Kiera got up and walked over to the couch. She sat down right beside me, and my body ached with her closeness. I’d give anything to hold her. I hated that I still felt that way. Why couldn’t I turn this off?

Her expression apologetic, she told me, “I didn’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.”

Prying into my past was the least painful thing you did, Kiera. I swallowed a hard lump. “Don’t worry about it.” Just leave me alone. Please.

She didn’t though. She leaned over my body, giving me a hug. I stiffened under her touch. It wasn’t that long ago that I’d craved these moments. I’d gone out of my way to make them happen. But that was when I’d thought they mattered. I’d thought I mattered. She shouldn’t be touching me like this anymore. Not now that her boyfriend was back. Not now that it hurt so much to feel what I couldn’t have. Get off me.

She pulled back, and her eyes went wide with shock, like she suddenly comprehended that I wasn’t enjoying her presence. Leave me alone. I stared past her so I wouldn’t go off on her. There was no point in yelling, no good in getting angry, and no reason for her to ever touch me again.