Page 72 of The Misfit

Right where I should be.

Where I now see even more clearly that I don’t belong.

The balcony air hits my face like salvation, sharp and clean compared to the stuffiness inside. Out here, the music is muffled, the voices distant. I suck a ragged breath into my lungs and press my silk-covered hands against the stone railing, focusing on the rough texture beneath the smooth fabric.

“Ahhh, so much better of a match than that odd girl he’s been seeing.”

Katherine Sterling’s voice drifts through the partially open doors, and I freeze. I know I’d be saving myself a lot of headaches if I just moved to another spot or returned to Lee, but I can’t. It’s like my body knows I need to hear what is being said.

“The Masters girl?” another woman asks. “The one with the … gloves?”

“Nothing more than a phase,” Katherine dismisses.

Another voice speaks up. “Lee’s always had a rebellious streak. Remember that awful business with Tommy Rodriguez behind the gymnasium?”

Katherine’s stilted laughter follows, brittle and cruel. I press further into the shadows, silk catching on rough stone.

“Charlotte Henderson, though,” Katherine continues, “now there’s a suitable match. Her family has connections to every board in town. And she’s absolutely normal. No peculiarities.”

“There is no denying that they look lovely together,” the other woman agrees. “Do you see them dancing?”

I guess it’s a good thing I got some air. I couldn’t stomach watching it.

It doesn’t matter, not when I feel Lee’s absence like a physical ache.

“Charles Henderson and I have already discussed arrangements,” Katherine’s voice drops lower, her tone conspiratorial. “Lee is stubborn, just like his father. Sometimes they just need a gentle push in the right direction. In Lee’s case, away from this unsuitable infatuation.”

There’s a tightening in my chest that I can’t explain.Unsuitable.The word echoes in my head, matching the erratic beat of my heart.

“But what about the Masters girl?” Someone else joins the conversation. A man. Lee’s father? “She seems … attached.”

“Please.” Katherine’s laugh could cut glass. “Look at her. The gloves, the obvious anxiety. She can barely function at a simple charity gala. How could she possibly handle being a Sterling wife? Our social obligations alone would destroy her.”

The truth is they’re not wrong. I can barely handle tonight, even with all Lee’s careful preparations. Even with silk gloves and practiced moves and counting every tile in every room. But that doesn’t give them the right to judge me or make decisions for Lee.

“Charlotte, on the other hand,” Katherine continues, “was born for this world. Poised, elegant, appropriate. Everything the Sterling name needs. Everything Lee needs, whether he knows it yet or not.”

The sound of laughter draws my attention back inside. Charlotte Henderson stands beside Lee near the bar with her hand resting casually on his arm. Nothing is special or wrong about the way she touches him, but it annoys me. Everything about her annoys me. She’s stunning—confident and polished in ways I’ll never be.

No gloves. No counting. No carefully measured distance between herself and others.

Normal.

Suitable.

Everything I’m not.

“It’s really just a matter of time,” Katherine says. “Soon enough, the Masters girl will realize she doesn’t belong in our world. And Lee … Well, he’ll remember who he is and the legacy he has to follow.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Oh, that’s the fun part. Then we simply remind him of what’s at stake. The Sterling name carries certain expectations. Certain standards. He will fill the shoes he needs to fill, or we will take everything from him.”

I dig my silk-covered fingers into the palms of my hand. Standards I’ll never meet. Expectations I’ll never live up to. A world I’ll never truly belong in, no matter how many designer dresses or custom gloves Lee buys me.

As hard as it is to see, to admit, this is the reminder I needed. Lee and I, we can never be together. Not in any real way.

I press against the balcony railing, things spinning out in my head when a hand scented with soap and alcohol slides over my mouth. I flinch, and my eyes widen when I spot Aries standing there, his hair disheveled, his bow tie undone. I’d shove him away if I didn’t realize at the same time he’d cleaned his hands just to do this. Had he been out here this whole time watching me spiral? Overhearing … that?

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