Page 58 of Tempest

Ardyn

How canI hate a guy but want him at the same time?

It’s not daddy issues—I don’t think. My father’s been overprotective for most of my life for justifiable reasons. I’ve never felt a lack of love from him or my mother. They’re busy, successful people running an empire, and their daughter is self-sufficient enough not to need constant attention.

Well, not anymore.

Tempest toys with my idea of independence and what it means. He wants me to believe I’m weak enough to run home and hide under the safety of bodyguards and walls.

Doesn’t he know? None of those things keep me safe. Nothing kept me safe when it counted the most.

He’s decided that mixing pain with pleasure will terrify me. What a mistake. He’s making me realize that pain can be pleasure, a mind-blowing revelation not even my therapists could come up with to accelerate my treatment.

Pain doesn’t have to control me.

I can oppress the fear of it with the expectation of releasing it in the most beautiful way.

And oh, how it would piss Tempest off to know he’s fueling me, not draining me.

With a small smile on my face, I find Clover waiting for me at the center fountain, sitting on the octagonal limestone while water spouts behind her, scrolling through her phone.

She catches sight of me once my shadow falls over her screen. “Oh! Hey! You ready?”

I nod. I’m actually really excited to leave TFU, go into town, and explore somewhere new. Just don’t tell my parents.

“How were your morning classes?” Clover asks as she hikes her bag over her shoulder and stands.

“They were okay.”

One thing about Clover and my relationship—during the years of knowing her, we never talked much about her brother. I watched him all the time, observed him with heightened awareness with every glimpse I saw of him, which wasn’t much. He was at boarding school in Rhode Island, and Clover and I went to a private school in Manhattan. It was only the summers, maybe one or two since he didn’t often come home, that Tempest sightings changed the course of how I crushed on a boy forever.

“I’m proud of you for sticking with the difficult classes,” Clover says. We’re taking our time down the pathway through the manicured lawn and to the student parking lot behind our dorm. “With all you’ve been through, I wasn’t sure if—omigod, do you even want to talk about this? I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Clover appears honestly embarrassed as she glances over at me, hooking her thumbs into her bag’s straps on her shoulders, and digging them in.

I rest a hand on her tense upper arm. “It’s okay. You’re the only person I’d want to talk to about it.”

“Yeah.” She sighs, looking down at her shoes. “I want to be honest with you, too. When you left after … after Mila…”

I nod, letting her know she doesn’t have to finish that sentence for me to understand.

“I was all alone. Yes, my brother was there, and my mom tried, and they threw a bunch of trauma therapists at me, but it wasn’t the same as talking to someone who’d been through the exact same thing. God, this is so selfish of me. I’m not trying to say you weren’t there out of choice—I know what your parents did and how fast they locked you up—I’m saying, I’m just trying to say…”

“That you were lonely,” I finish for her softly. I pull her hand from the strap, keeping it in mine and squeezing tight. “I understand, Clo. You don’t have to mince words with me or treat me like fine china the way everyone else does.” Except for your brother, who actually wants me to break.

Clover’s expression clears. “Yes. Lonely and grieving. I wanted you beside me to process Mila’s passing. So badly.”

“If it helps, I missed you just as fiercely.”

She looks over and smiles. “It’s nice to hear you say that. It really does.”

I study her profile. Serene smile, flushed cheeks, confident walk. But like recognizes like, and her pain of loneliness much like mine. “A lot of those years were out of my control. This year, I want to take it back. I want to live in ways I’ve been stopped from doing. If part of that means talking to you about that night, then so be it. I haven’t forgotten. I don’t want to forget. I wish Tempest would understand that.”

“Tempest gives you a hard time because anyone else’s happiness in proximity weakens him.” Clover pats me on the arm. “He can really be an asshole, but if you accept it and ignore him, he’ll move on to another unfortunate soul.”

I don’t think so. What Tempest and I have is undefinable and addictive. A frightening mix.

I shrug, though I’m oddly annoyed Tempest could move on so easily. Strange, considering I’d love for him to stop terrorizing me, but I don’t want him touching anyone else the way he does me.

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