I don’t have to look to know she’s right. I can feel it. The weight of his gaze, clinging with the heat of bare skin. That stare isn’t just heavy. It’s possessive. As if, despite my retreat, he’s already claimed a battle I refuse to fight. The realization that he hasn’t left sinks into me, heavy as a stone. Does he have nowhere better to be, or is torturing me his new favorite hobby?
Like I said earlier, he can stare all he wants. Doesn’t mean I have to care.
I roll my eyes. “Like I told you before, he can look all he wants. I don’t want anything to do with him.” The words come out sharp, harsher than I meant, and Ruby rears back slightly, blinking in surprise. Guilt knots in my stomach. She doesn’t deserve my anger, but I can’t fix it right now. I spin on my heel and walk away, each step echoing with unspoken apologies.
“Candace!” she calls after me, but I keep moving, heading straight for the restroom.
Once inside, I lock myself in a stall and press my back against the door, squeezing my eyes shut.Breathe in. Breathe out.My breath shakes out in a ragged rhythm. It almost sounds like a song beat. My pulse keeps time to a melody I’ve sworn to forget. I wasn’t mad at Ruby; I was mad at myself. At whatever stupid, reckless part of me had actually reacted to Malachi’s words. For one dizzy second, I wonder if I’d fall so easily if I ever let myself, and that thought scares me more than I want to admit.
I swallow hard, forcing down the sudden lump in my throat. I’m so damn tired. Tired of working nonstop. Of always being the strong one. Tired of holding everything together while wanting, just once, to let loose. But those thoughts are useless. They won’t get me anywhere. My reflection wouldn’t recognize the girl who once filled notebooks with lyrics about escape,defiance, desire. That voice? Gone. Packed away with the rest of my foolishness.
I shake them off, push them down, and leave the stall, heading for the sink.
Then I see her. Darla.
She’s not the same girl from last night. The one with the cigarette dangling from her fingers, eyes lined in sharp, smoky black, watching me with a hunger that could tear me apart. Gone is the cropped band tee, leather miniskirt, and the rebellion she wore as armor.
Now, she’s all soft edges. Delicate lace, bare shoulders, freckles standing out beneath the harsh lights.
But is this really her?
I watch the way she carries herself. Poised, too controlled, lips pressed together as if holding back words that don’t belong in this setting. Maybe this is just another costume. The version of herself her family expects her to be; the good girl, the golden one.
She catches my eye in the mirror and hesitates before speaking.
“Hi.” Her voice is low, raspy. She wets her lips, inhales deeply, then twists a silver ring around her finger, each rotation a silent brace for what’s coming. “Thanks for not calling me out in front of my parents.”
I let the water run over my hands, watching her through the mirror as I reach for a paper towel. “It’s not my place,” I say simply.
She shifts on her feet. “Sorry I was a bitch last night.” Her mouth presses into a tight line, her gaze flickering to the floor before she shakes her head. There’s something sad there, something raw. “I’ve had a crush on Malachi for a long time, and I saw the way he was looking at you.”
Something twists in my stomach. Not quite guilt, not quite satisfaction. Just heat. A slow, undeniable burn at another confirmation that Malachi looks at me differently than other women. My breath catches at the thought of him checking me out the same way he did last night, that unwavering stare that sends sparks through my veins.
Darla steps forward, as if she wants to say more, but hesitates. For a moment, neither of us speaks. It feels as though we’re standing on opposite sides of a glass wall, both pretending we’re fine. Both cracking. Then, with a half-hearted shrug, she lets out a breath. “I’m really not a bitch. No matter what Frankie says.” A small smile tugs at her lips. “Anyway, I saw you come in here and wanted to clear the air.”
I study her for a moment before making a decision. Slowly, I extend my hand. “Let’s start over. I’m Candace.”
She blinks, surprised, before realization dawns. Tentatively, she reaches out, shaking my hand. “I’m Darla.”
I hold her gaze, considering everything she just admitted, then ask the question sitting at the tip of my tongue. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”
Her lips part, and a slow, embarrassed flush creeps up her cheeks before she nods. “Yeah.” She swallows. “It was months ago. Right before he became president, I think. A one-time thing.” Her expression tightens. “I think he did it because he hates my father, not because he actually wanted me.”
A rock settles in my stomach at that little revelation.What an asshole.Just another reason to hate him. Yet an unwanted flicker of something else sparks deep in my gut. Jealousy, maybe, or plain annoyance that he gave himself so easily to someone else. I clamp down on it, refusing to let it grow.
“I’m sorry he did that,” I say, and I mean it.
She scoffs. “Honestly? I think I did it because I hate my father too. But I’ve been stupidly trying to get Malachi’s attention eversince.” She exhales, shaking her head. “Then I saw you blow him off last night, and it kind of woke me up. And now? Seeing him here tonight? It just… solidified everything. I don’t actually like him. Not really. And I sure as hell don’t want to be desperate for someone who doesn’t want me back.”
I nod, understanding more than I care to admit. “Then go find someone who doesn’t make you feel that way,” I tell her. “You’re worth more than that.” The words taste of something I should tell myself. But that’s harder. Easier to hand out strength than claim it.
“I guess we both know what it’s like to live in someone else’s shadow.” She straightens, a new spark in her eyes, and her smile grows. A real one this time. “Thanks. I think I will.” She pauses, then adds, “I’m heading to Frankie’s tattoo shop tonight. Want to come?” She lifts a brow, glancing toward the door. “Well… once I can escape my dad’s ever-watchful eye.”
I think about it. The way I just snapped at Ruby, the way exhaustion clings to me, the way I need a damn break, and decide.Yeah, that sounds perfect.
“I’m in,” I say. “Mind if I bring a friend?”
“Of course! I’ll let Frankie know. See you later.” She offers a small wave and disappears through the door.
