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She followed my gaze and approached it, touching the edge of the frame. “You may have easily forgotten me, but I never forgot you,” she whispered. Her voice sounded far more resigned than I liked.
“Ineverforgot you, Tris,” I insisted. There had never been one day she didn’t cross my mind.
“You didn’t return any of my calls, texts, or emails. If that’s not forgetting me, then what is?” The pain in her voice and disappointment on her face cut me deep.
I swallowed hard and ran a hand over the back of my neck. “Tris, our friendship ran its course.” I hated the lie I continued to perpetuate. Especially when I wanted to tell her that she had never seen me or my love for her and that was why I walked away. The icing on the cake that caused me to cut them both out was her wanting me to be happy about Peter’s betrayal. But themore I talked to her the more I began to believe she didn’t see it as one.
Fury surged within me, tangled with the old, familiar pain. Peter had dicked me over without a second thought, and still, Tris had chosen him.
What did that say about me? About her and I?
I chose to focus on the anger instead.
Anger was easier.
“Had it though?” she asked, in this small tiny voice.
Damn it!This is why I should’ve left well-enough alone. Being in each other’s lives was bringing up the pain and rejection we’d both felt, regardless of the reasons.
I scoffed.
She took a step away and gestured to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were so blinded by your infatuation with him, you couldn’t see straight,” I spit out. I wanted her to hurt just as much as I had back then.
“That’s not?—”
“You panted after him hoping he’d throw you a tiny scrap of attention. It was pathetic.”
Her gasp pulled me up short.
The second the words left my mouth I regretted it. I didn’t mean anything I was saying. This wasn’t why I was here. “Tris?—”
“Fuck you, Killian.” Her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Sadness and disappointment hung from every line of her rigid body, and instantly I felt like shit.
“I’m sorry.” My default was to hurt her after all this time, like she hurt me. I needed to stop doing that. “That was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have said?—”
She threw out her hand, her palm flat and facing me. “Stop. After what you just said, maybe we should just end this whole love coaching thing anyway.”
“No. You can’t.” I was desperate not to lose her now that she was back in my life.
“Why not?”
“I’m your best chance.” Her shoulders slumped as she recognized the truth of my words. And again I felt like shit for capitalizing on her lack of confidence. But I wasn’t ready for her to walk away just yet.
“Thanks for tossing another dagger at my heart,” Trissa spat. “Maybe seeing how much of an asshole you’ve become will have cured any lingering sadness at the loss of our friendship.”
I winced, her words hitting closer to home than I’d like to admit. Things had been going so well between us. Why were we fighting?Oh, that’s right. I was a complete and utter fucking dick.
“Tris…” I started, then stopped. What could I say? That I missed her? Instead, I defaulted to sarcasm. “Didn’t know you cared so much.”
She had no idea, but I’d kept my old cell phone and number. I didn’t use it, but I did check it every once in a while. I scrolled through our past messages, from time to time, to see if she had sent me a new one. Each message I read cut into me, reminding me that she’d chosen someone else.
“Why are you even doing this, Killian? A misplaced sense of guilt from what happened on your yacht?” I hated the suspicious look I’d put in her eyes.
It was like after the tender moment earlier when she heard me playing, I needed to push her away because that kind of attention from her was my kryptonite. Yet as much as I wanted to tell her I was done, I craved being close to her.
I was a sick fuck.