Climax (10 page)

I
t was two weeks into the new semester, and Kat still felt numb inside, the same way she'd felt when Tristan had left her on Lizzy's doorstep Christmas morning.

Numb and unable to breathe.

Unmoved, unfeeling, and with a drag to her steps, she barely got to her classes before the professors started their lectures. She was like a zombie. Kat walked straight from the dorm to her classrooms and back again. She only bothered to eat when the aching dull pit that formed in her stomach was too harsh to ignore. All around her the world seemed…faded. As though every bit of color and life had been drained from it. Nothing caught her eye; nothing made her heart race anymore.

She shivered as she stared out the classroom window, watching some of the other students throw snowballs at one another. They were running across the white-covered lawns, which was technically forbidden, but the wintry weather had made the professors less strict about the rules.

Flashes of her chasing Tristan across the ice rink slashed through her. Such joy, such agony…It cut deep enough that she gasped aloud.

“Are you okay?” Lacy, her best friend, murmured from beside her in class. Worry lines creased around her eyes.

Kat jerked her gaze away from the window and realized several of the other students were watching her as well, eyes alight with curiosity.

“I'm fine,” she lied, and dropped her eyes to the pages of her textbook, not reading a single word.

The professor was at the whiteboard writing the chapters for their next assignment, but Kat just let the words on the board blur as that deadness set in again.

The rumors about her and Tristan had eventually reached Cambridge, and she'd had to get used to the flashing cameras, shouted questions, and the mobs following her about the city. She no longer felt the sting of her classmates staring at her. Their interest in her personal life wasn't negative. Rather, everyone had seemed fascinated that she and Tristan had been dating and kept it a secret for as long as they had.

Headlines from newsstands jumped out at her with things like
KINGSLEY'S BREAKUP WITH STEPSISTER SADDENS LONDON AND WILL LONDON'S GREATEST CHARMER GET HIS AMERICAN SWEETHEART BACK?
Every time she saw them, something inside her twisted in fresh pain before she sank back into the murky depths of her new unfeeling world. No one knew why they'd split up, and that had been the hardest part. Dodging the truth of the situation. For Carter's and his father's sakes.

The professor dismissed the class, and Kat slung her backpack onto her shoulders, automatically heading for the door.

“It's going to be okay, Kat,” Lacy said, walking next to her as they exited the building.

“Thanks,” Kat replied halfheartedly. That was the trick she'd learned. If she didn't feel, then she couldn't feel Tristan's loss. It didn't always work.

Memories had a way of sneaking up on her and sliding an invisible blade between her ribs, but she struggled and eventually buried the memories deep.

“Why don't we do something fun?” Lacy suggested, kicking clumps of snow with her boots as she kept pace with Kat.

“I'm just not in the mood. Sorry.” She didn't miss the wilting smile on her friend's lips. Kat would only ruin any fun Lacy would have, and a good friend wouldn't do that.

They walked through the cold stone streets in silence. Kat paused as they passed the little pub where every dream and hope she ever had about love had been born. The place where she and Tristan had first kissed. The Pickerel Inn. Now it was a reminder of what she'd loved and lost.

“We could go in.” Lacy nudged her gently. “Mark's inside.”

Mark, Lacy's boyfriend, was always a source of humor and good spirits, but Kat didn't want to laugh. She didn't want to feel good.

Tonight she wanted to sit in her dorm and…what? She'd done nothing but mope around the last two weeks. The logical part of her brain was shaking a finger in disgust at her own refusal to go out and have fun. However, the rest of her was in agony, so much pain that everything else was dulled to her senses.

“Kat…” Lacy wrinkled her nose and bit her lip. “You've got to shake this off. I know it's hard, but you're strong. You can survive this.”

Survive without the other half of my heart? Yeah, feels pretty impossible right now
.

A couple exited the pub; the woman was laughing and hugging the man's arm as they walked past Lacy and Kat. Their happy laughter, happy intimacy, stung more than Kat could bear.

“I'm going to remember our last night at Fox Hill.”
Tristan's voice, so clear in her head brought a mixture of pain and joy. That was what she'd done every night since they'd parted. She'd close her eyes and focus on him, how it felt to sleep beside him, their breaths and heartbeats matched, their dreams touching deep in the night. Fingers laced together and faint butterfly kisses…

Kat glanced down at her boots and kicked some snow off their tips before she spoke.

“I need time, Lacy. You go in, and tell Mark I said hi.” She didn't wait to hear if Lacy replied before starting down the snowy street. She wasn't sure how long she'd walked into the growing twilight before she had a sense she was being followed.

Stopping, she spun and saw a tall blond-haired man lounging in the doorway of a closed shop. A thick striped scarf with a school shield was draped around his neck, the ends fluttering in the light breeze. His brown eyes were assessing but not threatening. Her heart jumped.

“Carter, what are you doing here?” she whispered, relieved to see him.

“Hello, Kat.” As he walked up to her, she noticed something in one of his hands. A rolled-up magazine. He held it out to her. “I think you should read this.” Carter started to turn away, but she grasped his arm.

“How is he?” she asked, desperate to hear about him.

Carter raked a hand through his hair and blew out an exhausted sigh.

“Not good. I've never seen him like this.” He paced away from her, like a restless beast torn with worry and anger. There was a weariness to his eyes that saddened Kat's heart. “He's cold. He's…losing himself to his grief.” He spun back to face her, his eyes sweeping over her as though searching for answers. “What
happened
between you?”

“He didn't tell you?” Surprise flickered through her. Tristan and Carter shared everything. How had he not told his friend what had happened?

“Tell me what?”

“We broke up because…because of his father.” She was hesitant to explain fully. If Tristan hadn't shared the details of their breakup with Carter, he must have had a reason.

“What did Pembroke do?” He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning.

“Well…” She hesitated. What could she say? Should she tell him the real reason? Would it matter?

With quick strides Carter was inches from her, hands on her shoulders as he stared down at her.

“Tell me, please, Kat. I can't help Tristan if I don't understand what we're fighting against.”

What we're fighting against
…His words, the sense of unity, showed just how close he and Tristan truly were. Brothers in so many ways that Tristan's father couldn't ever break them apart. Carter deserved to know the truth.

With a little nod, she sighed. “The earl used you as blackmail to keep us apart.”

“Me?” Carter's eyes widened.

With a little nod, Kat explained. “His father said if we didn't end things on Christmas Day that he would fire you and your dad from the estate and make it impossible for you to be employed anywhere else. Tristan couldn't fight it. And I understood. We did what we had to in order to protect you and your father.”

A tic worked in Carter's jaw as he digested this information. Then he looked at her intensely.

“So you still love him and would be with him if nothing else stood in the way?”

She nodded. “I couldn't let him hurt you or your dad. He said he'd choose me, but he shouldn't have to choose between his best friend and his girlfriend.”

A slow smile curved Carter's lips. “Well, thank God for that. Why don't you go back to your dorm and read the magazine. Keep your cell phone handy. Maybe I can conjure a miracle or two before midnight.” He touched her shoulder with a brotherly pat and then walked quickly away.

Kat watched him turn the corner before she headed for her dorm.

Miracles by midnight?
She doubted that was possible.

With a little exhale, and a heavy heart, she returned to her room and sat on her bed. After she kicked off her boots and stripped out of her coat, she unrolled the glossy magazine Carter had handed her.

Monarch Magazine
.

Her heart stuttered to a halt. Tristan was on the cover. He was seated at an antique walnut wood writing table. The photo was taken from his left and he'd put his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped together loosely as though briefly interrupted in a prayer. He faced the camera, his eyes sharp and penetrating, his full lips slightly parted, looking like he was about to say something important. The title of the article read,
THE TRUTH BEHIND THE LOVE STORY SWEEPING LONDON.

Kat's heart started beating hard and fast. She wanted to stare at the photo forever. He was gloriously handsome, but there was something in his eyes that stopped her heart. An aching loneliness.

I didn't dream him. He's real. And he used to be mine
.

She shut her eyes for a long moment before she found the courage to flip through the pages until she found the article. There was a huge full-page spread of the Snow White and Prince Charming kiss. She and Tristan were lip-locked and the words
SOME LOVES LAST FOREVER
were scrawled in an elegant font beneath their bodies. With trembling fingers she stroked the glossy page, remembering the way it had felt to come alive from a prince's kiss in a snowy glen, the sweet taste of an apple upon her lips.

She shifted her attention to the next page, where the interview began. Tristan described the way they met, how they'd kept their love a secret until his father had discovered them. Paparazzi pictures of them filled the next several pages: Tristan holding her protectively as he led her out of the registrar's office after their parents' wedding. The two of them singing at King's College, illuminated by candlelight. The two of them ice-skating.

Kat read the entire article twice before she reread the bolded quotes. There was a picture of Tristan by a window, his eyes directed out on the gardens, holding the compass she'd given him in one hand. It caught the winter sunlight and glinted sharply, like a fallen star in his palm.

She was the one thing in my life that made sense. The one thing I loved more than anything. I didn't deserve her, but somehow she loved me anyway.

Kat flipped the pages to a photo of Tristan by a fireplace, one hand on the mantel as he stared broodingly into the crackling fire's glow.

There will never be anyone else in my heart. Katherine Roberts is my only dream.

The words ripped all the wounds inside her open again, and sobs tore from her throat. She couldn't relive this pain. She couldn't.

Tristan reclined in a chair by the fireplace in one of the drawing rooms at Pembroke. His father was waving the
Monarch Magazine
around as he shouted. Tristan wasn't listening to a single word. His father looked furious enough to throw something, but he halted suddenly as the study door opened.

Carter's father, John, stood in the doorway, scowling. Usually the estate's steward was a cheery but polite and slightly reserved fellow. His blond hair was streaked with hints of silver, but his brown eyes were sharp and observant.

“What is it, John? Can't you see I'm busy?”

John walked into the room, his lean form moving with purpose. “I've come to tender my resignation. I'll be leaving within the hour and will send someone to collect my things tomorrow.” His gaze stayed on the earl, but Tristan had the strangest sense that Carter's father was speaking to him. He slowly rose from the chair, his gaze darting between John and his father.

“What in the blazes do you mean, John?” Edward threw the magazine into a chair and crossed his arms, brows lowered.

Carter's father didn't back down. “It has come to my attention that you have been using me and my son to keep Tristan from dating Ms. Roberts. Well, you can trouble yourself no more. I do not hold with such low behavior. It has been an honor until today to work for such a noble family and a great house. But if you plan to run the estate through subterfuge and blackmail, then I'm done, Edward.”

John turned on his heel and left the room.

Sputtering in rage and panic, Edward rushed after him. “If you think I'll let you resign, think again! I need you here, John. Come back—” The drawing room door closed, leaving Tristan alone.

Dazed, he stared at the door. Before he could process what had just happened, his cell phone rang.

“Tristan, why the bloody hell didn't you tell me!” Carter was almost shouting.

“Tell you what?” he fired back. He was unused to Carter being so…angry.

“That Edward was using me and my father as a way to keep you and Kat apart? You shouldn't have protected us, not at the cost of your own happiness. You bloody idiot. I've told Father and he's going to resign. He said he thinks your father is bluffing.”

Stunned, Tristan tried to process what Carter was telling him.

“But your dad's just resigned—”

“Tristan, he won't have to, not if he can blackmail your father right back into letting you see Kat. So get in your car and drive to Cambridge. Kat needs you. Forget Edward and come back here. He can't keep you from her. There's no one stopping you anymore.”

Tristan was on his feet and running for the door, pulling his keys from his pocket. He shouted for a footman to open the gates as he practically sprinted down the front steps.