Nate hated shit like this. It was likely the reason why Fei hadnât brought it up in the first place, and honestly? Heâd almost been content to leave it at that. He could pretend he hadnât seen the flyer, and if he never showed up, she wouldnât have a reason to be angry at him for it. It sounded like a win/win.
But then it was her words that ping ponged around his head and refused to shut the fuck up. All she asked from him was that he try. Was it really such an inconvenience for him that she expected a little bit of effort? No. It wasnât. And it never should have been.Â
So that was why heâd found himself in a fitted black button down rolled up to the elbows and slacksâ fucking slacksâ as he made his way down the halls of the prep school. The place was stuffy, too full of itself in the way these kinds of places were and more times than he could count, he considered saying fuck it and just waiting for her at home.Â
But he was trying. And that meant actually, well⌠trying.
Casino night was in full swing when he entered the auditorium and there was a tightness in his chest as his eyes swept the crowd. Heâd never been a fan of crowdsâ or people, reallyâ and this was no different. He felt out of place, several pairs of eyes meeting his as he searched for the only ones heâd recognize.Â
Relief loosened the tightness in his chest as he began making his way across the room, his eyes locked on her until they moved to the person she was currently talking to. The tightness crept back in, his jaw working as some innate part of him seemed to view the scene as a threat. They were talkingâ only talkingâ but his hackles seemed to raise all the same. Long strides moved him closer and closer, but his eyes remained fixed on the way they watched each other. Had he ever seen her eyes look so bright? They sparkled beneath the lights, nearly blinding as he closed the distance. She hadnât looked up, hadnât even noticed him yet and something about that made his skin prickle with irritation.Â
Sliding up beside them both, Nate slipped a hand over the small of Feiâs back, effectively cleaving between them and cutting off whatever conversation theyâd just been having. He had only a moment to regret not listening in first before he leaned in to kiss her. It was quick but possessive, even in its chasteness. He squared his shoulders as he flicked his gaze over the man sheâd been talking to, lingering there for a moment before a smile that did not at all reach his eyes stretched across his face and his eyes slid back to Fei. âSorry Iâm late.â His eyes hardened for a moment before the mask slid into place, some part of him shutting down against what he seemed to already know but refuse to acknowledge. âYou look beautiful.â His eyes swept over her like a loverâs caress and he hoped the little fucker was watching. And understanding.
Nate pretended to suddenly remember himself and he shook his head apologetically, his grin too easy. âSorry, didnât mean to interrupt.â He held out a hand towards the man. âIâm Nate, Feiâs boyfriend. Youâre a coworker, I assume?â
@feidavenport @lachlan-petersâ
The nerves in the pit of his stomach started to calm once she got talking, the warm familiarity between them enough to remind him he had no reason to be worried. This was Fei. It was them. They were, as he had thought so many times before, inevitable. Tonight was about giving her the fairytale she deserved - the perfect night that, god willing, theyâd one day tell their children and their grandchildren about. It wasnât a bad setting, he decidedâŚÂ
Lachlan couldnât stop his smile from quirking up involuntarily as she starting talking about work. Heâd first fallen in love with her passion, after all, and would happily listen to every idea sheâs ever had if it meant he got be to privy to that sparkle in her eyes. Would it be wrong to kiss her now? Before the heat of excitement reached her cheeks? So that he could be the one to put it there? She stopped herself before he could puzzle out the answer.Â
A waiter walked by with champagne flutes, and Lachlan picked one up for himself as well before turning back to her. âTo new beginnings,â he said, raising his glass for a toast. The butterflies were back, and he realized this was it - the moment he was waiting for. Theyâd clink, theyâd drink, and in the entire room, thereâd no one but them. âSpeaking of new beginningsâŚâÂ
He didnât get that far. Because no sooner had he brought the glass to his lips, but someone else cut in. It happened in slow motion, like a car crash he couldnât peel his eyes away from. At first he assumed it was a mistake - some guy too drunk to realize where he was. The hand was easy enough to dismiss, but then he leaned forward and⌠Lachlan felt the floor drop out beneath him.Â
His face fell, a shock so overwhelming crashing into him he couldnât hope to hide his expression, not even when the man unmistakably looked in his direction, pointed and possessive. All while his lips were locked with Feiâs.Â
Lachlan felt physically ill. There was a pain in his chest he was sure was his heart literally breaking. He knew, even before the words came out of the manâs mouth. A numbing, shattering clarity swept over him.Â
âIâm Nate, Feiâs boyfriend.âÂ
His eyes raced between the two of them, taking them in, every heart-aching detail heâd no doubt torture himself with later. He tried to look to Fei for answers, for some explanation that this was all a misunderstanding, but could only bare a couple seconds at a time, the sight of her enough to send another fissure of hurt down his crumbling composure. So instead he focused on Nate.Â
The man cut an imposing figure, notably taller in a way that made Lachlan feel smaller than he already did. His easy manner and smug confidence reeked of privilege, as did his effortlessly elegant clothes, which made Lachlan feel completely underdressed in the blazer heâd bought at Macyâs. His hand was outstretched, but the gesture looked anything but friendly.Â
In the end, Lachlan didnât take the offer, sure that if he shifted his grip on the glass, it would shatter at his feet. He cleared his throat, blinked a couple times to collect himself, and managed all of a one-word answer:Â âLachlan,â he replied, hoping against hope the name would ignite a flare of recognition in him. That his name might be enough to stand against what heâd just witnessed.Â
Inevitable.
It was the word that she'd always felt described everything about her and Lachlan. It had always seemed - no matter the obstacles - that the universe was conspiring to move them together and keep them there. Somehow, it would always be them, in the end.
But the word was sour now. Bitter. It rose in her throat like bile, as its meaning shifted to something else - the consequences of what she'd done. No matter how far she ran, or how many lies she told, or how expertly she avoided the truth, it would always find her. This moment, this horrible, excruciating, terrifying moment... was inevitable.
She wanted so badly to run. To just take off, and keep running, all the way to San Francisco, where she never should have left in the first place. She'd run straight to her dad, who would never say I told you so, even though he'd think it.
But she was a grown up now. These were her consequences. The anger in Nate's eyes now and the heartbreak in Lach's were both hers to deal with now. She couldn't speak or breathe or even blink just yet, but she did her best to telepathically tell Lachlan she was sorry, as she took Nate's clenched fist in her small shaking hand.
"Can I talk to you for a minute, please?" she asked Nate, her voice shaking along with the rest of her. Â "Outside?"
She began walking toward the door theyâd come in, not looking back, not sure she could physically handle seeing Lachlan in pain like that. It was selfish, but it was pretty established by now that that's what she was. As soon as they were once again past the giant dice sculptures that guarded the door, she forced herself to look at Nate - however suspicious or angry or upset he was, she deserved to be punched in the gut by all of it.
âWhat... what are you doing here?â