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Our kiss was surely a mistake after all—one I initiated—and one I won’t make again. I’m mistaking my own sympathy, and Rainer’s occasional kindness, for something it isn’t.
Damn him for unraveling me like this. It wouldn’t hurt as much if he hadn’t been so tender with me, too.
I wish I could find an explanation for why Rainer and Fern were together, alone, in the shadows. But there isn’t one. He was kissing her neck, and she was enjoying it.
Simple as that. I know what I saw.
He didn’t push me away tonight because he wanted to be alone…he just didn’t want me.
I scoff, plopping down on a boulder beside the wine table, letting my dress flair out around me.
A dress I picked out for Rainer.
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
I hang my head, burrowing my face in my hands and groaning.
“Let me guess?” Eoin asks. “He was displeased that I kissed you.”
I chuckle sarcastically. “He doesn’t get to care what I do.”
“I don’t know what’s going on between—”
“Nothing. There’s nothing between us.” Not anymore.
“May I keep you company?”
“Only if you don’t kiss me again.”
“Ouch.” He rubs his chest mockingly.
It’s not because Rainer threatened him, but because it’s not fair that I kiss Eoin while thinking about someone else. Even if there’s nothing between me and Rainer, Ken’s right, I am obsessing over him.
He’s consuming my thoughts.
I’ve gone from drowning in grief to drowning in Rainer.
“I don’t want to give you false hope,” I tell Eoin. “But I am not interested in anything...more.”
“Fair enough.” He holds out a hand to me. “Friends?”
A friend sounds nice right about now. I nod.
“I’m done with all of this tonight.” I gesture toward the party.
I had fun—until I didn’t. And I could continue to drink faerie wine to stave off the emotions sitting on my chest, to ignore the sharp sting in my heart, but part of me wants the hurt. To remember this so I don’t make the same mistake. So I don’t forgive Rainer as easily as he expects me to.
I am cursed with mercy, after all. I scoff at the thought.
It’s ironic: we can break hearts that don’t even belong to us.
“May I walk you back?” Eoin asks.
“Yes, actually. I’d like that.”
Eoin reaches for my hand, interlacing our fingers as he walks me back toward the castle. The buzz of faerie magic has almost fully worn off. I don’t want to be alone. I’d rather wallow in company, like I would do with Char.
Eoin isn’t Char, not even close, but he’s a friend. He’s the only one who has stuck up for me, showed an interest in me. That’s more than I can say for anyone else around here.
