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Chapter 17

                 

I force my gaze off the dead center of the rather full table, trying to listen into the speeches. The engagement party is loud, full of excited faces and adoring couples trying to prove that they're just as happy as the almost bride and groom.

I twirl my fork slowly, not even trying to get into the conversation. I feel Amelia's gaze on me every once in a while and force myself to smile in her direction, not wanting to upset her.

Truly, I'd like to be anywhere but here.

I want to be back in New York. Paris is ruined for me.

I'll never be able to come here again and not think of him. Not be able to think of what I lost- maybe what I never had.

...

I lay back against the pillows, eyes red and swollen. I grab my phone suddenly and stare at Royce's message.

I haven't heard from you today. Please call me. I don't like the way we left things last night... I love you.

Taking a deep breath, I try to brace myself for the unpleasantness of breaking up with someone- I swallow and dial his number slowly.

...

"The wedding was beautiful," I murmur to Viktor, answering his question as I hand Eric my luggage to put into the trunk. "She looked spectacular."

"I saw the pics. That dress you made was perfect... You should really consider making a bridal collection."

I stay quiet and pull open the door to the limo, getting in. I keep my face to the floor as Viktor settles beside me with a sigh. Eric merges us out of the pick up lane in JFK with grace and expertise, used to the hectic New York traffic.

"I'm- afraid to ask..." Viktor says suddenly. I feel my lips tremble and I look out the window, ashamed to still be crying like this. He grabs my hand tightly and presses his lips to them. "Baby, what happened?"

I gasp, trying to control the storm going on in my chest. "I poured my goddamn guts out and-and he couldn't... I basically begged him to come back like-like an idiot."

"Aw, God, Iris. I'm sorry. I knew it was a bad thing that you saw him again."

I cry into my hands, shaking my head. "I knew he couldn't say yes but I couldn't stop myself. I wished that he'd just say- you know, fuck it and try but it's fucking impossible. He can't do that."

"... I'm sure he wanted to say yes, baby."

I nod, lifting my face, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. "I barely know him. I spent a goddamn week with him, Viktor and somehow, I fell for him. I didn't even know that could happen."

He nods, squeezing my hand. "We never know why we get tested like this. We love people who don't love us back, aren't good for us, treat like crap- like who the hell set this up? Why are such good people put through these obstacles?"

I sniffle, shaking my head. "To make us stronger?"

He smiles, nodding. "Exactly. You will be strong, Iris and you will get through this because you have to."

...

I deposit my bag onto the chair in my bedroom, shrugging out of my coat. Viktor is one step behind me, picking up my trail. I climb into bed, fully dressed and exhausted. As I feel the covers rise up over my body, I open my eyes, smiling softly.

"... I broke up with Royce."

Viktor presses his full, pink lips together and nods, as if he expected it. "Before or after this happened?"

"After... I'm just leading him on. I knew I wasn't going to marry him. I never even thought of it."

He sits down beside me, clutching my hand over the comforter. "How did he take it?"

"Surprisingly well... I think he was expecting it."

Viktor reaches out and move the hair falling over my face, nodding. "Get some sleep. You look like shit."

He stands up and I shake my head, rolling my eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"I'm only lookin' out for you, baby," he utters, shutting the door.

...

Wrapped in a robe, straight out of the shower, I walk into the kitchen, not surprised to see Viktor at the counter. He turns as if expecting me and smiles. It's dawn and he looks as if he's been up for hours.

"I made coffee."

"Thank God," I murmur, practically still asleep. I take one of the mugs and raise it to my lips, humming as I feel the warm liquid trickle down my throat comfortingly. "What would I do without you?"

"You'll never know," he answers matter-of-factly. I kiss his shoulder as a thank you and settle down onto a stool, grabbing the entertainment portion of the paper.

"Anything new happen?"

"Ryan Reynolds has a new movie out."

"Sounds like something to add to our agenda, possibly," I murmur slyly, smirking at him. He grits his teeth happily and nods. While my obsession may be Stellan Reid, his is most definitely Ryan Reynolds.

"And what agenda is that for today? This is news to me. I surely thought we'd be in for the day again- like yesterday and the day before that," I roll my eyes, sighing as he continues, "I thought some fresh air would be good. You know- one of the hot landscapers told me there was a pathway back in your yard. You never told me that."

I stare at the words on the newspaper, concealing the blow to my gut. The creek. Stellan. That night.

"We should check it out."

"No," I utter breathlessly.

"No? Why? What's back there?"

I turn to him, biting my lip. "Just- no. Please."

"Okay," he murmurs, confused but understandingly. I clutch the paper in my hands tighter and force myself to continue reading. It doesn't work- I grit my teeth together and stand.

"Eric is bringing me a package. I'm going to get changed. Will you set it out?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Makeup kits for the fundraiser."

"Ooh, yes. I shall have fun with those. When's he coming?"

"Any minute," I call out, shutting the door halfway. I stop in the middle of the floor, resting my hands onto my waist and close my eyes. The thought of going out just makes me want to shut the blinds and curl up under the covers- anything to forget him.

My will proves stronger than my heart so I walk into the closet, picking out a black turtle neck dress. Grabbing stilettos off the ground, I sigh, straightening. I spend decades trying to decide on jewelry- eventually just going with good old fashion gold- and walk back into the bedroom.

I stop at the threshold of the closet door, stuck in place as I find Stellan, standing at the doorway, one hand still on the knob.