“What’s wrong?” I ask.
‘What do you mean?”
“Natalia, I know you,” I say. “Talk to me, please.”
“Nothing is wrong, Rowan, please.” She exhales and begins to walk away. “Stop.”
I stop her by taking her hand in mine, loose enough for her to keep going if she chooses. But she doesn’t. “Natalia, I’ve been watching you all night, okay? I know that look in your eyes. I know you.”
Natalia’s hand remains loose in mine, tightening enough to tell me that maybe she doesn’t want to let go. So I tighten mine, telling her I’ll never let her go.
“You don’t know me, Rowan,” she whispers, her voice quiet and sad.
“Don’t I?”
“Rowan,” she breathes, shuddering like she might break right before me. “Please.”
“Talk to me.”
“I just really need to go home.”
I swallow everything down, all the words I know won’t work, and release her hand. Natalia exhales shakily, fixes hercurls just enough, and pulls at the corners of her mouth and walks around me. I follow behind and witness as she paints a smile on her face and walks toward her friends.
“Hey,” she whispers to them. “I think I’m gonna head home. I’m getting a migraine.”
“What?” Lana frowns. “But…Why? Stay.”
“Please,” Isabelle begs. “Stay.”
Natalia shakes her head. “Really, it’s okay. I don’t feel well.”
She’s lying.
“Bye, Auntie Natty,” Grace says, rushing over to hug her. Natalia squats and catches the three year old in her arms, squeezing tight and shaking her around.
“Oh, I love you, my little ballerina,” Natalia murmurs and kisses Grace’s head. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Gracie frowns but tosses her arms around Natalia’s neck. “Okay. You promise?”
Frustrated, I escape into the first floor bathroom so I don’t have to watch her lie before she disappears for the night. I rinse my hands under the sink and splash some of the lukewarm water on my face, rubbing at my eyes and cheeks.
Seeing it from the outside, I hate it. I hate what her mind does to her and how it hurts her this way. It hurts me, but not the way it hurts her.
I fucking hate this.
She’s waiting for me to hate her, to be angry and reject her—leave her. She might even be hoping for it because she thinks she doesn’t deserve me. She’s mad because I’m the one who doesn’t deserve her.
I shake my hands in the sink and reach for the hand towel before I storm out of the bathroom, slamming right into Lucawith the other guys huddled around. “Sorry,” I groaned. “I gotta?—”
“Go after her?” Luca asks. “You sure she doesn’t need space? She’s tired.”
“She isn’t tired, you idiot! Drink your damn water.” I groan again, a loud sound that feels painful in my chest. I tug at my hair painfully.
Julian comes to my side. “Rowan, man?—”
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head with an exhale. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to react that way. She’s not…tired.”
“Go,” Christian says with an assuring dip of his chin. “She’ll need you.”
