I did it to prove something to myself.
She exhaled. “So I left after I saw you with whoever she was in that dark room. Can you blame me? After what you did?”
I couldn’t.
“I thought you might come after me, try and win me back…but you chose other girls, then other women. For over a decade. Then when you did court me, for a year you won me over, only to make me relive that horrible moment.”
Suddenly all of this seemed so fucking stupid.
The orchid.
Snitch.
Thinking I could win back Lottie.
From her point of view, I was trash. And I couldn’t say she was wrong. Lottie had the clearest view of me.
I dragged a hand down my face.
“I’m not mad at you, Grayson,” she said softly. “I knew who you were when I considered dating you. You made it perfectly clear all these years.”
But some kind of emotion weighed her words. Caused her to swallow heavily and turn her attention back to the orchid.
I couldn’t know for certain. The stupid mask was too opaque.
Was she sad? Was she…relieved?
“Why did you want to meet me?”
Her eyes met mine, big, but a few shades darker than Snitch’s, and without the green.
Why the fuck am I thinking about Snitch?
She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then changed her mind. “My father told me I might have a wedding to look forward to.”
“Ah.”
That’s why she’s so fucking sad. She knows she has to marry someone she hates.
Awkwardness bloomed. I dragged two hands through my hair as the cellist started up a faster, more urgent song. The low chords vibrated in the air…and I found myself looking around for a distraction.
For a girl with walnut eyes and a soul-deep stare.
“Ask me something.” I turned to Lottie. “Anything, even if it upsets me.”
She looked at me like I was insane. “I’m not going to ask you something that upsets you.”
I was going insane. I was here with the girl I’d been chasing for half my life, and I couldn’t get the nun out of my head.
“Would you, maybe…” Lottie trailed off. “Would you, maybe, like to be my date to your Fourth party?”
I looked back at her. “Lottie, do you even like me?”
I knew that look on her face. Gemma had worn it for over a decade. Forced to interact with a boy you hate, because your parents want something his parents have. Forced to pretend.
She looked back at the orchid.
Another drag of my hands through my hair, and I looked away from this fucking train wreck, when through the arching entrances of the terrace, I saw Lottie’s friends, Aundi and Pipa.