Page 140 of False God

Charlie leans forward and kisses my forehead, right next to the gauze. So softly that it’s lighter than the brush of a feather. A tickle almost. But heat spirals through my chest and pools in my belly, like he touched me much more intimately and much less politely.

“You’ll always be beautiful, Lili.”

Beautiful.

The first word he ever said to me.

Unshed tears burn my eyes, like I’m staring into the overhead lights again.

“Did you, uh, have fun at the gala?” I ask, fighting through the wave of emotion.

Charlie chuckles, but it’s a hollow laugh, lacking any real amusement. “No. If you could stop ending up in the hospital during every formal event we attend, that would be bloody wonderful.”

He says it like we’ll attend more events together, which won’t be the case. Because we live in different places and want different things. And what was supposed to be a fun anecdote about a summer fling somehow turned into a tragedy.

I love him.

The thought appears in my mind. It’s not a question or a consideration. It’s already happened, like a true fall. One you hardly notice, and then you’ve landed.

It’s terrifying. So much scarier than any other I’ve ever experienced. It feels like I’m standing on a spinning merry-go-round with nothing to hold on to.

Hugo was right; I’m running.

When I’ve run before, it was always easy. A relief even. Decision made—on to someone new. It’s how I knew breaking up with Cal was the right decision. Because I was sad, in the aftermath, but I also felt better. I’d stopped forcing something simply because he was an old friend and my family approved of him, and it was the right decision.

And I knew, maybe the same second that Charlie approached me in that stable, that this would be different. I didn’t want him to leave. I was disappointed when Chloe called and our first conversation ended. Since he departed France—essentially doing the running for me—I haven’t felt relieved once.

He’s going to leave again. He’s only here for—I don’t even know how long he’s staying. I was too busy reeling from his proximity to ask. But I know it won’t be for long.

My next project’s location hasn’t been decided. There are multiple opportunities to consider, and I refuse to be the girl who reshapes her identity for a guy. I’m not going to relocate to England andhopethat he’s ready for a relationship sometime soon.

I pick up a corner of the blanket and twist it around my thumb. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot. But … you should go, Charlie.”

He has family here too. Maybe he can see them while he’s in town.

He’s silent for a few seconds.

“You want me to go?” Charlie doesn’t sound offended. More … resigned. Like he knew the request was coming.

“You should, yeah. I promise I’ll avoid limos for a while.” I keep my tone light, already close to losing it.

My eyes feel hot, tears on the horizon again. I wanted to talk to him, but now, I’m not sure what to say.

I’m embarrassed he’s seeing me like this. That I got drunk and tried to go clubbing because I couldn’t stand to stay in the same room as him. Mortified I keep playing the part of a damsel in distress when I want him to see me as strong and capable. Humiliated I can’t admit to him how I really feel because I’m terrified he doesn’t feel the same.

Weak.

I feel weak, and I’ve never felt weak before. I’ve felt stupid, struggling to read simple sentences. I’ve felt defeated, seeing people’s faces change when they hear my last name.

But there’s always been strength beneath. I might get sick of some of the attention, but I’m proud of my family. I’m proud to be a Kensington, and I’ve always felt like one.

Brave. Bold. Capable.

I don’t feel brave or bold or capable right now.

“Okay,” he says. Charlie’s expression is impassive. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “And avoid wearing heels.”

I manage a smile. “No promises, but I’ll walk carefully.”

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