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When I stand up from the prayer bench, I catch a glimpse of my parents shaking Joe’s hand on my right. No words are exchanged, none have been for longer than I can recall, but they’re here and that’s the most important thing. I turn to my left and see Max whisper something in Nico’s ear. Nico nods, but keeps his gaze locked on me. It’s like we’re the only people in the room, standing in our own little bubble, preserving the fantasy I foolishly believed could become a reality until he unceremoniously popped it and destroyed my dreams.
I square my shoulders and walk toward him, four pairs of heavily made-up eyes dissecting every inch of me as I approach. Max is already heading out the door, leaving me on my own to handle this situation, a situation he obviously knows nothing about since Nico is still very much alive and breathing. Had Max suspected a thing, Nico would have most definitely been another casualty in the world we live in.
I have to make a choice. Right this second.
I made the wrong one before, and I don’t want to repeat my mistake.
But as broken as my heart is, I want it — no, I need it — to become whole again.
Only one person can stitch it back together.
And he’s standing right in front of me, the smell of wanton sex and pheromones assaulting my senses…and I honestly don’t know if that smell is coming from those harlots or from me.
So I ignore every feeling that I have right now and walk right past him without so much as a nod.