Pressure I thought I could escape.
But I’m still dragged in a million directions, hopeless against the current, in a world I never even got to choose.
Noah’s chatting with a CEO, explaining to her all about his own problems that pale in comparison, talking about how he’s worried about having a stepbrother soon.
No one knows that this dinner could explode at any moment.
“I think we can arrange a yacht party this summer,” Von Harrill is saying now, addressing me and Roman. “Do you think it would be a good arrangement, in addition to the other arrangements?”
“Perfection,” Roman says.
I nod like I’m listening, even though I’m barely there.
Von Harrill is smiling wide and everyone seems far too happy in contrast to the storm inside me.
I feel like I’m clinking glasses with royalty as the Titanic is starting to sink underneath us. Or like we’re on the brink of a massive, ground-shattering earthquake, yet everyone else is acting like we’re untouchable.
When I see Niko stand up and stride toward the paned glass doors that lead to the back deck, my senses heighten.
And then I see the stranger in cufflinks stand up, too.
Looking at Niko.
Following him outside.
I need air.
I need air.
Just fucking say it, just talk, just speak?—
“Going to get some air,” I finally manage to say out loud, standing up and gripping the back of my chair as I stand.
Sevan’s already gotten up and crossed the elegant ballroom, snaking his way through caterers and groups of people walking around, tailing the stranger.
“We’re only just getting started,” Roman says, cutting me a glance that I’m sure is supposed to make me sit the fuck back down.
“I’ll be back soon,” I tell him, breaking eye contact before taking off across the ballroom.
I keep my sights locked on the back of Sev’s body, following him like he’s a beacon in the dark, my heart pounding like I’m about to jump from a tall building.
Don’t do this for me, I’m begging on the inside.
If Niko gets hurt, I’ll feel like it’s my fault.
If Sevan gets hurt… I’llknowit’s my fault.
I need all of this to end.
And if I’m the one who gets hurt in the process, then at least I’ll escape the guilt that pools on my conscience like toxic sludge.
I push through the doors that lead outside.
The air is balmy and smells like spring, fresh grass and floral scent perfuming the air. The moon is low, and the back deck of the ballroom is lit with lanterns along the outer railing. There’s a small outdoor bar set up at the far side, but the deck is virtually empty right now, as the dinner just began inside.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hear Sevan shout as he approaches the stranger behind Niko.
Both of them turn to look back, under the canopy of the trees flanking the deck.