"I’m fine," she replied, her eyes scanning my face with a hunger she couldn't hide. "I’ve seen you in court. You look like a lioness up there."
A dozen biting retorts flashed through my mind, starting with the fact that my judicial ruthlessness was fueled by a year and a half of celibacy and heartache, but I chose to sip my wine instead, offering a thin, meaningless smile.
Donald approached, greeting her with a familiarity that made my stomach turn, before excusing himself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him return to his boyfriend, leaving us in a private pocket of tension.
"I’m glad you enjoyed the performance," I said.
"I miss you, Megan."
"You decided this, Kelsey. Not me." My tone was ice.
"Megan, we need to talk." She took a step closer. I immediately retreated, raising my hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "Just talk, Kitty. Please. It’s impossible to be without you."
"No messages. No calls. No emails." I pointed a trembling index finger at her chest. "You say it's impossible, yet you didn't even bother to find out if I was still breathing."
"I know how you are. Our friends talk," she said, rolling her eyes as if my anger were an inconvenience. The dismissiveness snapped something inside me. I stepped into her space, the scent of her perfume, that intoxicating, familiar scent, hitting me like a physical blow, dazing me for a split second.
"They don't know shit," I hissed.
I turned to walk away, my movements too sharp, too brutal. Kelsey lunged to catch my arm, to keep me from escaping, but the sudden jerk sent the rest of my sparkling wine flying. It soaked into her pristine beige linen suit, a dark, jagged stain spreading across her chest.
She didn't flinch. She just looked down at the mess and then back at me, her voice low and shattered.
"I suppose I deserved that."
"You’ve been ignoring me. You’re nowhere to be found," I accused, my voice trembling with eighteen months of bottled-up resentment.
She used a cloth napkin to dab at the darkening stain on her suit, her gaze fixed on me with a piercing intensity.
"Do you have any idea how agonizing it is?" she started, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "To know the only person I’ve ever truly loved is out there, and I can't see her? I can't touch her? I stayed away because seeing you and not having you hurts too much, damn it. I made a brutal choice, but I did it so you could have everything you deserved."
"I don't feel better, Kelsey." I crossed my arms, my eyes tracking the wine on her chest. "And that stain? It’s not coming out."
"Kitty..." she breathed.
I shot my hand up, cutting her off before the name could settle. "You stripped yourself of the right to use that name the second you ended us."
Her hand clamped onto my arm, pulling me inches from her. The scent of her perfume was a physical assault on my senses, thick with memories of late nights and whispered promises.
"You are not going to be this spoiled, this childish," she hissed, her eyes dark with a familiar fire. "I should..."
"Should what?" I challenged, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"I should grab you right here, in the middle of all this, just to remind you that you’re mine. All mine."
The words were a ghost of a whisper. She let go of me as if the contact had burned her and turned, walking toward the mansion without another word.
I collapsed into a nearby chair, pinching the bridge of my nose so hard I thought it might bruise. Donald slid into the seat on one side, Sarki on the other, my two weary guardians.
"I’m done," Sarki spoke first, her tone exhausted. "I am tired of the two of you sulking in corners. You’re miserable, and she does nothing but whine to Vanessa and Donald."
I looked at Don, and he offered a grim, supportive nod.
"Go inside and settle this with her, Megs," he said, nudging my shoulder. "Your mood is so toxic that if you don't fix this, you’re going to start sentencing little old ladies to life imprisonment for stealing bingo chips."
"Oh, you can't be serious. I'm not going in there," I countered, arching an eyebrow as I snatched another glass of sparkling wine from a passing waiter. "You only act this tough when you're trying to deny what you actually want," Sarki shot back.
I rolled my eyes, initially heading for the bar, but my feet had a mind of their own. I found myself drifting toward the main house, my internal compass locked onto Kelsey.
