An invisible fist closed around her throat, cutting off her oxygen. Her legs began to shake with the urge to run as fast as she could. It would be over now. Look at them. They were a ten-year age progression of the homecoming king and queen. Stupid perfect. Mary had her hand on Beck’s arm, big, bluebell eyes pleading, white teeth flashing as she whispered to him.
Kenna could feel the cool air from outside drifting in through the doorway behind her, enticing her to leave. Not yet, though. Once she saw it done, she could bail and bail hard. Audience members had started to take notice of the golden couple, watching them curiously, but Beck led Mary toward the exit, stifling the disruption.
Kenna drifted in their direction.
Jesus, this couldn’t be happening.
He’d walked off the stage, raw from revisiting the tragedy that had taken Xander and wanting nothing more than to soak up comfort from Kenna. Seeing her appear in that doorway, dressed like an angel, had given him the strength to get through the acceptance speech. Her answer had been written on her face. Yes to Georgia. Yes to him. Yes to everything. The beating organ in his chest had swelled to the point of bursting, so full, so grateful.
Out of nowhere, Mary had appeared. Confusion had stopped him in his tracks, followed by a brief flash of nostalgia. Not because he had any lingering feelings for Mary. He hadn’t for a long time and now…now he couldn’t fit a single damn thing around what Kenna made him feel. No, Mary’s appearance had made him think of the past. A time when things were simple and he didn’t know what it felt like to lose a friend. Lose a battle. But she belonged in that time. The past. Not here and not now.
That’s when panic had hit him. The glow on Kenna’s face had dimmed and he could feel her slipping away bit by bit, all the way across the auditorium. Now he stood in the empty hallway, Mary crying and imploring him…for what? He couldn’t hear her over the roaring in his ears. He needed to go after Kenna, but his feet were cemented to the ground. With absolute confidence, he knew if he turned the corner and saw she’d run away, he would break. Wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not after having their future right there, in the palm of his hand. Her trust issues, her fear of being abandoned, couldn’t handle this yet. With more time, he would have gotten her there, but it was too damn soon for this.
Mary gripped his arm and he wanted to jerk away. No one touched him but Kenna.
As if he’d called her name out loud, Kenna rounded the corner and stepped into view. The mere sight of her quieted the ceaseless wail of sound drowning everything else out, allowing him to focus. My girl is so beautiful. So hurt when there’s no reason. Couldn’t she see the gaping hole in his chest where she fit so perfectly?
Focus. He hadn’t lost her yet. She was still there. The possessive beast inside him demanded he storm toward her, shake her and kiss her until she stopped looking so devastated. Her loss of hope was an insult to that ferocious part of him. Logic, however, managed to wedge its foot in the door. She needed time to reason this out. This moment was equally important to both of them. He needed her trust. She needed to learn how to give it.
“It’s just…you were gone so long. I couldn’t just wait around, getting older.” Mary sobbed into the sleeve of her coat and Beck felt a pang of sympathy. He harbored no ill will for her. They’d been children with grown-up plans, and he didn’t fault her for not wanting to put her life on hold for him. “But I know I messed up bad, Beck. When I heard you were coming back, I thought maybe we could have a second chance.”
Beck didn’t answer. Every ounce of his energy and attention focused on Kenna. Come on. Remember what I promised you. Did she think he’d said those words this morning on a whim?
Beck’s reality shifted when Kenna took a step toward the side exit, her gaze bouncing back and forth between him and Mary. She placed a hand on the steel exit bar and his blood went cold. No. If she left now, he would never convince her of his intentions, the truth of his feelings. It would start a pattern and they’d never break free. The rush of sound in his ears started again—
Kenna dropped her hand from the door, saying something under her breath, and Beck’s pulse heated back up, started to race. When their gazes met, he saw bravery there and wanted to shout at the ceiling. Thank God.