The woman turns and an expression of confusion spreads across her face. Her forehead creases, like it did whenever she’d process information. Over a decade later, some things never changed. Surprise flashes across her face, and her lips part. I want to taste them again, but I don’t deserve them.
The giant man steps between us and breaks the moment. Kinsley’s here. I reach for her, but a deep voice stops me.
“Sir, please write your name down and take a QR code.” Huh? What? Kinsley’s here. Three feet away. Twelve years of searching and now a fucking QR code and formality is going to separate us again.
Kinsley side steps away, retreating into the crowd. She’s running, no anger or tension in her body, just pure instinct. I pull my attention off her for a few seconds to write my name down and shove the QR code into my pocket, but by the time I turn back around she’s vanished in the masses of people. No way am I losing her again.
I switch into search mode—a skill I’ve honed by spending my adult life at parties and gatherings trying to find Amanda. Kinsley’s taller, which makes it a million times easier.
“Wait!” I don’t even hide the desperation as my voice cracks over the ambient noise of the crowd. She’s making a move towards the door, but I cut her off, blocking her exit with my body. Ten seconds, that’s all I need.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve spent every day of my adult life thinking of you and I swore if I ever got the chance, I would apologize to you.” I allow ten thousand weights to lift off my soul as the twelve years of guilt and ‘should haves’ are released. “And I know you’re with Zackary Olympian so I shouldn’t even be talking to you, but I need you to know how truly sorry I am.”
I did it. Years of late-night speeches that keep me awake, and it’s done. When I meet her gaze, she’s staring at me with an unreadable expression. I never really thought beyond this point. Shit.
“Um… I made it weird, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did.” Her lips turn into one thin line, and I’m hit with memories of that exact response. She used to do that when she was underwhelmed. I’m not used to being on the receiving end of it.
Retreat! Run away! I motion behind me. “Enjoy the auction. I’m gonna go… literally anywhere else but here.” Yeah, that went as well as could be expected. Damn it, I had twelve years to think of a sincere closer, and at showtime I say, ‘Um I made it weird.’
But she crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side, asking, “Why do you think I’m with Zach?” Not the question I thought I would get.
“Um, I saw you two together at the Olympian Gala a few months ago. You appeared… happy. I figured you two were spending the night together.”
“We did.” Her lips curl at the corners as she clarifies, “We went back to his place, and he thought he could beat me with a string of bananas, but I had a red shell. What a fucking dumbass.”
Huh? Bananas and shells? “Mario Kart?” I ask with confusion and a dash of relief. She shrugs, and a hint of that icy veneer starts melting.
“I like to keep him humble. The world will thank me one hundred years from now.”
“Did you hear my very personal confession and apology? Because that was kinda important.”
“Yeah.” Her eyebrows twitch as her gaze sweeps across the crowd of people behind me. “I’m still processing all that.”
This time when she breathes, I can tell she’s sighing like she is resigning herself to talk to me. A waiter walks by with a tray of champagne. She grabs a flute and takes a sip. Is she buying time to decide if she wants to stay here?
“I don’t go by Kinsley anymore. It’s Alana now.”
Ok, again not what I was expecting, but it sounds vaguely familiar. It’s more information than I had a minute ago, so I’ll take it. And finally, it’s something we have in common too.
“Yeah, I don’t go by Davin anymore either.” I try to sound confident and casual. She cocks an eyebrow, and my stomach twists, because I know in my soul that she’s about to give me a verbal beatdown.
“We need to talk about that, because it’s been driving me nuts. You have three perfectly good names you could have picked from Alistar Davin Graeloch, but you picked the worst name and spelled it stupid.” Her playful insults are like hugs to my soul.
“You know, like morally Grae?”
The sides of her lips curl even more. It’s almost an imperceptible change, but I see it.
“You? Morally gray?”
“I’ve seen and done some crazy shit over the years.” I brush invisible dirt off my shoulder and lean in. “One time I took someone else's coffee order. On purpose, because they were rude to the barista.”
“Such a rebel.” She lifts the glass to her lips again. “Am I in danger talking to you?”
“Possibly, you never know.”
The hallway between the main reception area and the door fills with more people. Something about her shifts, and she turns away, searching for… the exit? She wants to bail, I get it. I don’t deserve any more of her time than I have stolen from her already. Our love story doesn’t need any more chapters, this closure is enough.