A Matter of Heart (50 page)

“Hmm. I considered that
until you two held hands.” She continues inspecting her nails. “Which is an
interesting thing for somebody to do with her fiancé’s brother.”

I claw at the bench below
me, but decide to not play this game with her. “What’s your point, Sophie?”

“Do you two hang out like
that often?”

A splinter slides in between
my nail and finger, but I don’t care. “If I’m not mistaken, Kellan is no longer
any of your business.”

“I wonder if Jonah has any
idea of just how close his brother and fiancée are.”

I let go of the bench as a
whoosh of laughter escapes me. Is she contemplating holding this over my head?
So she can—what?—get me to convince Kellan to take her back? “Yes.”

“Is he, though?”

“Yes,” I answer as firmly as
I can. It’s mostly true.

One of her perfectly groomed
eyebrows arches up.

“If you think he needs to
know,” I say, “by all means, go and tell him about your concern.”

She picks off a piece of her
red nail polish, marring the perfection. “Everyone warned me that Kellan only
forms superficial bonds with women. But what I think no one realizes is that he
does have a very strong bond with someone.”

I don’t respond.

The red speck is flicked
forwards. “That day we had lunch—everything changed. And I think you and I both
know why.”

I force myself to sound
firm. “I’m done with this conversation.”

She puts an arm out when I
try to stand up. “Can you swear to me that you had nothing to do with why we’re
on a break?”

It’s a low blow, one that I can’t
possibly answer truthfully without broadcasting my blatant guilt. But I’m
suddenly feeling quite petty. “Were you even really dating? Because that’s not
what he told me.”

Her lips thin in anger.
“Careful, Chloe. You don’t want me as an enemy.”

Oh, no she didn’t. “Are you
threatening me?”

She folds her hands across a
knee. “I will fight for him.”

Is she for real? What does
she expect me to do, cat fight her or something? “Does that surprise you?” she
asks when I don’t respond. “I told you the first time we met that I loved him.”

I can’t help myself. I
totally laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“Hell yes, I am,” she says.
“He’s mine.”

The cramping in my stomach
is almost unbearable. All I want to do is go home and crawl into a tiny, fetal
position and sleep. How did I get into this situation? It’s beyond surreal. I
rub at my forehead. “I’m really sorry you seem to be taking this breakup hard—”

She cuts me off. “You think
your hold on Jonah Whitecomb is strong? Think again.”

WHOA NOW. I’m off the bench
in a flash. “Excuse me?”

“What’s the old saying? An
eye for an eye?”

My fingers curl into fists.
“What in the hell—”

“By the time I’m done with
you,” she says, sitting on the bench like she’s the Queen of England, “you may
not have anyone at all.”

I can’t even speak, I’m so
stunned.

She finally stands up.
“Nobody takes from me what’s mine.” She makes a motion of looking me up and
down in disgust. “Nobody.”

And
then she walks away.

Kellan is looking at me like
I’m crazy.

“I’m not lying.” My stomach
cramps and I double over. Effing ulcer. Why can’t I get rid of the damn thing
already? “I swear to—”

He grabs me. “Sit down.” The
pain subsides after he lays a cool hand on my cheek, making me wonder if he
knows about the ulcer. Then he rubs at his forehead. “Okay. Okay. So—she just
showed up and threatened you?”

“HAVEN’T YOU HEARD A WORD
I’VE SAID?”

“Don’t yell at me,” he says
calmly. “Of course I’ve heard you. The whole building heard you. I’m just
asking for clarification—”

“Just surge and take the
damn memory already!”

When he enters my mind, I
close my eyes and sink back into his couch. I pretty much stormed directly to
his apartment the minute Sophie was out of my eyesight.

It’s a pattern of mine, I
think, running to Kellan.

He watches the memory
carefully, replaying the last bit of threats a second time. After he eases out
of my mind, he stares at the wall in front of us.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nods.

“Did you tell her about
me—us?—when you broke up with her?”

“No.” He’s clearly tired.

“She knows.”

“Frankly,” he says, “I’m
surprised more people don’t. I don’t think I’m good at hiding my feelings for
you anymore.” He stands up and walks over to where his cell phone is. When he
dials the phone, I know exactly whom he’s calling.

I consider leaving, but when
he comes back and sits next to me, I stay where I am. I’m morbidly curious as
to what he’ll say.

As if he knows I am, he puts
the call on speakerphone. She’s tremulous and delicate sounding when she
answers. “I’m so glad you called, sweetie. We really need to talk.”

He lays the cell phone on
the coffee table in front of us. “You’re right. With the amount of messages
you’re leaving me on a regular basis, I fear I wasn’t perfectly clear with you
before.”

She’s alarmed.

“We’re done, Sophie. I
really thought that we were on the same page, because I clearly remember us
discussing that first night I agreed to go out with you that I wasn’t
interested in anything more than something that, at the very most, could be
classified as casual. You told me that was what you were looking for, too.”

Bitter laughter hisses
across the connection. “It was a line and you know it.”

I cannot believe I’m
listening to this, but I’d have to physically be escorted out of the room to
stop. “Really? Because my stellar dating track record spoke differently?”

“You felt something for me.
I know you did!”

“But I didn’t.” He tugs at
his hair. “Sophie, I am truly sorry if you misunderstood the nature of our
relationship—”

“I love you.” It’s a cross
between a plea and a curse. “Don’t you get that? I LOVE YOU.”

He’s quiet but firm. “I
don’t love you, Sophie. I never will.”

I wonder if he wishes he
could. Loving her might be easy. She used to make him laugh. She’s gorgeous and
smart (according to gossip) and really good at her job. Maybe they would’ve
developed a shorthand between them. They could’ve been one of those couples
everyone was jealous of, because they’d be so beautiful together.

“This is because of Chloe,
isn’t it?”

She’s right. Of course she’s
right. But rather than outright confirm this, he says, “Please don’t call me
again. Don’t show up at my building, expecting my doorman to let you up. Or
come to my work. To reiterate: We. Are. Done. That’s it. There’s no more to
say. Nothing to argue.”

“Don’t throw us away.” She’s
crying.

“But that’s the thing,
Sophie,” he says. “There never was an us to throw away in the first place.”

After he hangs us, I don’t
know what to say. But he does. “You don’t have to worry about her going after
Jonah. There is no way he would ever let you go.” It’s his turn to sound
bitter.

How
many times can my heart break before the pieces no longer fit together?

When Jonah leans in and
kisses me hello, a siren goes off in my head. I can’t put an exact finger on
it, but something is definitely off with him. Maybe it’s the way his lips are
pressed together, like he’s holding something in. Or the sadness shadowing the
blue in his eyes. Or his hand gripping the edge of his t-shirt and twisting,
like he’s trying to actively stop flexing his fingers. All of these things
serve to up my already sky high guilt levels considerably. I lock my feelings
away behind a shield. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His eyes widen for a split
second before he schools his features. How I’ve begun to resent those calm
faces of his and his brother’s. “Well, hello to you, too.”

He sits down across from me
at the small table I’d gotten us at one of his favorite diners. I haven’t seen
him in over a day; he’s been off on a quick mission in Tennessee. But yes, he’s
tense. Without his shirt to hold onto, his hand is back to unconsciously
flexing against the tabletop. That means he’s stressed. Stressed about what?
The mission? Me? Is he stressed about me again? Did Sophie—oh gods, does he
know about Sophie? DOES HE KNOW ABOUT ME AND KELLAN?

“Do you know what you’d like
to drink?” a waiter asks. I jerk in my chair, sending my menu across the table.
Thankfully, there are no water glasses to spill this time.

“Can you give us a minute?”
Jonah practically snaps, which is totally unlike him. The waiter leaves, and my
heart decides to pump two times faster than normal.

My palms are clammy.
Something is—he’s—

“Anything interesting happen
today?” He’s not looking at me. He’s staring at the menu below him like his
life depends on it. His voice is weird. Strained.

HE KNOWS.

I’m a coward. A big fat
coward who still can’t tell him the truth. I think about how Sophie said she’d
fight for Kellan. If Jonah thinks I’ll let him go without a fight, he’s got
another thing coming. Here I am, planning two wars over two guys, but please,
for the love of everything good in all the worlds, let me be wrong. Let this be
nothing. I can only whisper, “No.”

He jerks out a nod. My
stomach is on fire. I don’t know how I’m going to hold down the little lunch I
managed to get in me today.

I watch him swallow. And
then do it again. “We need to talk.”

!!!!!!!!!!

“This is—” He yanks a hand
through his hair. Blows out a hard breath. Hits an open palm against the table,
rattling the silverware and glasses. “We need to talk about the wedding.”

!!!!!!!!!!

“I know we’ve put down
deposits on everything, and we’ll be out of a ton of money when we cancel,
but—”

CANCEL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

“It’ll be unavoidable—”

OH. MY. GODS. I can’t
breathe. I CAN’T BREATHE.

“But, I think, in the long
run, it’ll be the best thing—”

I have to get out of here.
NOW. NOW.
I can’t breathe
.

I’m
gone.

As I don’t have my apartment
keys, since I left my purse back at the diner with Jonah, I’m not able to go
home. I also don’t have my cell phone, making calling anyone who actually had a
spare set impossible. It’d be foolish to go home anyway, because that’ll be the
first place Jonah’ll look, if he even actually wants to see me again.

My world collapses down
around me. The black spots that plagued me well over a year ago when I caught
him kissing Callie are back in full force.

Jonah

called

off

the

wedding.

Broke up with me
.
Even though I’ve been debating postponing the wedding myself until the air
could be cleared.

I have to get the hell out
of Annar.

Half an hour later, I’m
standing outside his house in Kauai, trying desperately to get the spare key
down from its hiding place. I’m berating myself for coming here, to
his
house, even after he rejected me, but I stupidly want to be around something
that’s his.

The cramping in my stomach
is unbearable. I cave to the nausea and throw up the food I ate earlier. I
choose to ignore the blood in my mouth and in the bowl below me.

Chloe,
Caleb
begs, suddenly present,
you need to get to a Shaman.

I can’t, and he knows I
won’t.

If you won’t go home, for
the gods’ sakes, go to Kellan. Please.

It shocks me Caleb even
suggests this. But, it cost Kellan too much when I went to him the last time
Jonah broke my heart.

I love Kellan too much to
drag him under with me.

Then let me come to you.

I
don’t let him. I don’t want anyone around me right now. So I let the darkness
take me away from Jonah, away from his rejection, and away from the blinding
pain in my stomach.

“Where are you?!”

Cora’s never been the most
sympathetic person, and I’m beginning to doubt the wisdom in calling her. But I
figured I needed to call someone to let them know I was okay. And to also let
them know not to come looking.

“It doesn’t really matter.”
Even to me, my voice is hollow. “I just wanted you to know I’m safe.”

“Do you know how frantic Jonah
is right now? He and Kellan have been looking for you ever since you
disappeared yesterday!”

I lean against the glass
walls of the phone booth. I’d resorted to calling her collect, considering my
lack of money. Also, phone booths are disgusting. I’ll have to shower, because
I’m pretty sure there’s at least thirty years’ worth of dirt caking the phone.
Furthermore, I’m a moron for not making myself a phone, but I’m afraid I’m not
firing on all cylinders at the moment. Breakups will do that to you. “I’m not
ready to come back.”