Hudson(114)

Instead, she’s tucked away in a corner. But she is dancing. Slow dancing. In David’s arms.

I watch them, mesmerized, unable to look away like is often the case when met with something horrible. Neither of them notice me, and from my vantage, I can’t see Alayna’s face. But I can see David’s. His eyes are closed, but his expression is tender and forlorn. He seems to be whispering into her ear—singing perhaps. If I ever doubted that he had feelings for her, I don’t now.

It’s simply a dance, I tell myself. Then he’s going away. It’s likely her way of saying goodbye. If I were a different man, I’d give them privacy.

But I’m not a different man. I’m this one. And I’m thoroughly possessive. So I’m still watching when they stop moving and make eye contact. And I see when he leans forward and kisses her.

It’s a moment of revelation. The first moment I feel absolute pain. There’s a wave of panic, accompanied by this crushing weight against my chest. It takes away all ability to move. All ability to breathe.

She pushes him away, and I should be grateful. But I’m still caught in the before. It replays in my head as if on constant repeat—her in his arms, his mouth against hers. Against the mouth that is mine. He doesn’t love her like I do. He can’t. It’s impossible. His feelings are small and inconsequential compared to the immense affection for her that travels through my body with one beat of my heart. He would have never let her go if he felt how I do.

And now another new emotion—I want to hurt David. I want him dead. For daring to touch the woman that doesn’t belong to him. For attempting to steal what is so very clearly mine. My hands are fists at my side, and I’m imagining the ways I want to punish him, ways that can never equate to the pain I feel inside.

And her…

The betrayal is really hers, but I don’t want to hurt her. I want to pull her into me, into my very soul, so that she can see how I feel about her, see how this rips me up. Tie her to me so completely that she can’t ever be out of my control. This was why I sent David away in the first place. This is why I hold on to her as tightly as I do. This is why I doubt her when she says she means forever. If she can wound me like this now, then how easily will she leave me when it’s warranted?

It’s a fragment of my greatest fear realized—she loves me, but she doesn’t love me enough.

I’m barely aware of when they discover my presence. I hear her say my name. Hear her tell me that it’s not what it looks like.




It doesn’t matter what it looks like. I know exactly what it is—it’s the worst moment of my life so far. And I know it’s only the beginning.

“Maybe we should discuss this in a more private setting,” I manage. She agrees, and painful minutes later, we’re alone in the employee office.

“He kissed me, Hudson. I didn’t kiss him. And when he did, I pushed him away.” The regret of her action is in her face and her voice.

Yet the pain rages on. “Why were you in his arms in the first place?”

“We were dancing. It was a party.”

“You were in his arms, Alayna. In the arms of someone who has made no secret of his feelings for you. What did you think he’d do?” I don’t mean to be this angry. I am fully aware that this is minor in the scheme of ways that I’ve betrayed her.

But it doesn’t change how I feel. My inexperience with this emotion rules how I behave.

“It was innocent,” she insists. “I needed someone. He was here. And you weren’t.” Her expression changes, and her words grow bitter. “Where were you today, anyway? When I needed you?”

I was f**king saving her from Celia, that’s where I was. My own bitterness shows in my words. “What was it you needed, Alayna? Someone to keep you warm?”

She presses her lips together. “That hurts.”

“What I just witnessed hurts.” I sound cruel. It’s not the reunion   I wanted. There’s so much we need to be talking about, and we’re stuck on this. Perhaps I’m grasping on to it so I don’t have to say the other words. The ones that will hurt her even more.

She’s equally unkind. “Yeah, I know how it feels.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I do. Let me see if I can explain it. It feels like your gut has been wrenched out of your body. At least that’s what it felt like when Celia told me that you’d been f**king her for most of the time we’ve been together.”

I’m caught off guard by her words. “What?” This is new, and all of a sudden, I’m worried that I’ve missed something. “When did she say that?”

She tells me.

“You saw her today?” Earlier, before I’d boarded my plane, I’d checked my voicemail and discovered a message from Celia. I’d deleted it. It was something about her lawyer and Alayna. Since I’d had no messages from Jordan or Reynold, I’d figured it was another attempt to rile me up over nothing. I ask Alayna about it now.

She explains that she’d snuck away for coffee. That she’d taken her computer. That she’d encountered Celia. David becomes a conversation for later. I’m instantly concerned about this—what Celia did. What Celia said.

I’m tense throughout her recounting of the event, but I try to maintain my temper. It’s especially hard when Alayna admits that she’s the one who approached Celia. After all I’ve done to keep them apart, this is hard to hear. It’s as if Alayna’s working purposefully against me, undermining my attempts to protect our relationship. Of course, she has no idea that she’s doing it.