Page 25 of King of Guilt

Shaking my head as I took a right, I thought of how nobody would even believe me if I’d told them what I’d been doing. Dean Allen, the tech billionaire known for his unmatched coolness, was following his personal assistant around town. They wouldn’t believe it. They would certainly laugh and shrug it off like some sick tabloid lie.

Only I knew the pathetic reality of my situation, and yet, it didn’t stop me.

Since Dee’s Café was fully exposed through its massive glass windows, I parked the car in a side street, away from the eyes of anyone sitting inside. Next, I walked along on the sidewalk, peeking in with quick glances until I saw her there.

There she was—Emma, sitting at a two-person table in the center of the café, with none other than Kyle. Bites that resembled jealousy started eating up little bits and pieces of my thoughts, darkening them, poisoning my head while disorienting it all at once. Jealousy was no regular friend of mine, but I knew what it tasted like, and that alien bitterness was right there on the tip of my tongue.

Perhaps the one thing that made me linger was the expression on Emma’s face. Or more accurately, her side profile as she leaned forward, enunciating something at Kyle’s recoiling expression. She suddenly raised her hands in the air, then lowered them abruptly to grab onto the side edges of the table as she leaned back in her chair. Shaking her head, she looked away while it was now Kyle’s turn to point a finger, looking agitated.

At that moment, the two women sitting right behind Emma got up and left, and a waitress went to clear up the table. I didn’t know what drove me to immediately leap inside, quickly claiming the free spot before someone else did.

With nothing but mere inches separating our seats, I could now hear Emma’s voice clearly in the midst of the bustling noise. I knew it was risky, since all it would take was for her to turn around.

“You gave me your apology. You wanted me to say; ‘you’re forgiven,’ and I did. What more do you want from me?” she asked, frustration dripping from every syllable.

“You don’t mean it. You can’t possibly forgive someone when you’re clearly still so mad at them!”

“Yes, I can.” She huffed loudly. “Kyle, you need to understand that I forgave you the moment I realized that you weren’t well. You didn’t hurt me on purpose. I mean, sure, at times I felt you were lucid enough to understand how much your actions were hurting me… but… I know you couldn’t help it.”

“Oh, great. Now you’re patronizing me.”

“Patronizing you? You had an illness, for God’s sake! And I stuck by you, hoping that things would change. What position do you think I hold to patronize you? Do you know what I am now? I’m now the one who’s sick!”

“Em—”

“No, let me finish!” She raised her voice an octave. “Do you realize how pathetic you made me? Of course not! Because you think you can come here and throw your apology in my face and all will be well. Well, it’s not!” She paused. “Do I carry on like a normal person on the outside? Yes. But did the therapy I tried to get after you work completely? Absolutely fucking not! Kyle, just because I don’t complain or shout, it doesn’t mean that I’m fine.”

“Well, then, tell me! Maybe I can help—”

“How? Help how? How do you think you can do that?” she quickly said. “Right now, I’m with who’s probably the best man I’ve ever met in my life—”

“Great! I’m happy for you!” His tone, however, wasn’t happy at all.

“No, not great, Kyle. The opposite of great. That man, with all the feelings that I have for him right now, stands oceans away from me, and I forgot how to swim.” She paused, inhaling sharply. “It doesn’t matter how attractive he is to me, or how much I l—care for him… I can’t let myself go completely. I can’t be with him the way that I’d like to. Before you, I had no fear of this. I didn’t worry. Back then, I could’ve walked up to him and just… went for what I wanted.”

“That can be reckless.”

“Ha! You think?” She stopped. A moment lingered between them, while the aftermath of the emotion in her voice filled my heart with sympathy. “Kyle,” she said calmly. “I don’t want to stand in the way of your recovery. And I’m happy that you’re getting the help you need. But for the sake of logic, please don’t expect me to give you a pat on the back and say that we can be anything to each other anymore. I can’t have you in my life, not even as a friend, because the very thought of you reminds me of the price I had to pay for having once loved you. The price I’m still paying, on the expense of any future love.”

“But if he loves you—”

“He respects me,” she strained. “Which is far more important than love at this point. He respects me and maybe even needs me… and I’m struggling to be there for him, struggling to keep the demons of my past—of what you did—from burning him with me.”

Deeply touched and at a loss over what to do next, I knew I’d heard enough.

When an overworked waiter finally came to take my order, I thanked him with a smile, put down a tip for letting me sit here a while, and got up and left the café.

Alone in my car, I didn’t know what to make of what I’d heard back there. Did Emma really have feelings for me, or was her speech merely a tool to make Kyle feel guilty? Driving away, I pondered the latter possibility and was fully convinced that she had all the right to do so if she pleased. That man might have been unwell when they were together, but now that she was still dealing with the damage he had caused, three years later, what did he expect?

What would any man in his place expect?

The solid roads and weeping skies gave my gaze places to wander, while my thoughts roamed through flashbacks of our night together.

The look in her eye when I inched closer, holding her tightly. Her trembling chin. Her recoiled figure on the sofa.

She was scared of me.

“Say the word, and I’ll leave you alone.” I had said.

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