Thoughtful (Thoughtless, #1.5)(56)
Anger flashed in her eyes as she looked up at me. “You’re being an ass! Ever since…”
She stopped talking. She still couldn’t say it, she still couldn’t talk about sex. Well, if she couldn’t bring it up, then I wouldn’t either. Why should I make this any easier for her? In fact, I think I’ll ignore it altogether. I returned my attention to my article and my coffee. “I really don’t know what you mean, Kiera…”
“Is it Denny? You feel guilty…?”
That irritated me, and before I could stop myself, I snapped out, “I’m not the one who cheated on him.”
She flinched at my words and bit her lip, like she couldn’t believe I would go there. I hadn’t meant to, but her comment got to me. Of course I felt guilty. I owed Denny everything, and I’d betrayed him…for absolutely nothing. I’d risked it all, and for no damn reason, and if Denny ever found out, he would never forgive me.
“We used to be friends, Kellan,” Kiera whispered, her voice warbling.
That comment got to me too. We were friends once, and then so much more. Or I thought we’d been more, but that hadn’t been the case. I’d been a blanket to keep her warm when she’d been cold. Nothing more.
I began to read the article again. “Were we? I wasn’t aware of that.”
Pain and heat were in her voice when she responded to my callous comment. “Yes…we were, Kellan. Before we—”
Her words were opening up wounds I was trying to let scab over. I didn’t want to talk about this. My eyes rose to hers, cutting her off. “Denny and I are friends. You and I are…roommates.” The term was distasteful in my mouth, but it was the truth.
Her cheeks flamed with anger as she gaped at me. “You have a funny way of showing friendship then. If Denny knew what you—”
Again, I let my rage get the best of me. “But you’re not telling him, are you?” I bit out. Calming myself, I resumed reading the paper. Each printed word I spoke in my mind brought my temper down a notch. But calming down let the sadness in, sadness I didn’t want to feel. I mulled over the worthless feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why was I so impossible to love? I knew I needed to get angry again to shove this pain aside, I just didn’t have it in me at the moment.
I studied my paper, not seeing a word of it. Being more honest than I had been in a very long while, I told her, “Besides, that’s between the two of you—it had nothing to do with me. I was simply…there…for you.” I love you so much…It hurts so much…And I remember how we were together, when it was just us here, and it kills me all over again.
Needing to be away from her, needing to be away from this house, needing to be away from my life, I sighed and looked back up at her. Her gorgeous eyes were wide, her cheeks pale, her lips full and welcoming…and not mine. “Are we done?” I asked her, my voice soft. Seemingly shell-shocked, all she could do was nod. I stood and walked from the room; I felt drained by every step I took away from her. Staying near her was worse though.
Once I got back to my room, I grabbed some stuff, then left the house and drove to Matt’s. It wasn’t as close as Evan’s, it wasn’t as quiet as Evan’s, but no one would question if I stayed a couple of days. And I needed space. Guess I was weaker than I thought. So much for being able to handle anything.
After spending some time at Matt’s, I managed to pull my shit together and go home. I went back to my tried-and-true method of dealing with the pain—anger and avoidance. I spent a lot of time in my room. I spent a lot of time torturing Kiera with crude comments. I spent a lot of time reminding myself why I shouldn’t give a rat’s ass about her. That never worked though. I still cared, I still hurt.
Denny got a new job, since he’d quit his old one when he’d rushed back to Seattle to salvage his relationship. When I finally had the strength to talk to him, he confessed that he hated it.
“Have you ever gotten the feeling that no matter what you do, you’re never going to do enough?” he asked me. Pausing, I wondered if he meant Kiera. She seemed to be growing more discontented every day since Denny had returned. I wasn’t sure why, but I wasn’t about to ask her.
“Sometimes,” I quietly answered him. Okay, maybe every day since birth.
Denny shook his head, and I could see regret and guilt warring in his features. “This new job…I feel like I’m butting my head against a wall. I keep trying to show my worth, but the harder I try, the more they resent me. I know I shouldn’t compare, but my other job never would have…I just miss…” Sighing, he let his thoughts die.
Knowing, as a friend, I should say something to make him feel better about his sacrifice, I pushed aside my guilt and heartache and said, “At least you still have Kiera.” I hoped he couldn’t hear the bitterness in my voice.
With a sad smile, he murmured, “Yeah.” I understood. He was suffering from remorse; I was too.
Denny’s job kept sending him on more and more errands that had nothing to do with actual work, from what I could tell. It seemed like he was gone more often than not now. With every task he was sent on, Kiera became more irritable. There was a frost between them that hadn’t been there before, and I found her reaction to his absence interesting. He’d left his dream job for her and she was the one getting pissy about his replacement gig? Considering what she’d done to him with me, you’d think she’d be a little more understanding. But when I came downstairs one night and she was staring out the sliding door to the backyard, face forlorn, eyes close to tears, my heart still ached to comfort her. Even after everything, I still loved her. I probably always would.