Page 7 of Thorns That Bloom
Guilt creeps up my spine. It sours the taste of the food in my mouth, so I put the fork down and lean over my plate with a sigh. “I never said that. We…went on a break,” I mutter.
“I swear, dude. I’ve never met a person so afraid of breaking up with someone. Just do it!”
I wish it were so easy. Wish there were a way for me to do that without hurting her.
Knowing Ben won’t be interested in me moaning about my love life, and neither will anyone else around, I rest my chin over my hand propped against the table, staring at my food.
Emily has done a lot for me. She’s been my first real relationship and my biggest fan ever since I started performing. Always by my side, always cheering me on. A little too eagerly, perhaps. A little too focused on fame and this image of me as some star. Which just isn’t me.
But how can I tell her that I don’t feel the spark anymore? The pull in me not to disappoint anyone has always been way too strong for my own good.
“Lemme go replace the dessert you stole from me,” I say, and swiftly get up before Ben can respond. I run my hand through my hair as I walk through the busy cafeteria, hoping aninfusion of sugar will ease some of the tension.
It’s been a few months since I haven’t feltrightwith Emily. And no matter how many times I’ve tried to explain it to her or have a serious conversation, she just wouldn’t…accept it. She would look at me with those doe eyes, and I’d instantly feel like a piece of shit for pulling away. For ruining the longest relationship I’ve ever had.
Maybe Ben is right.
Maybe it’s stupid that I’m not able to make that tough choice and break up. I can’t go on like this, that’s for sure. Emily would be happier with someone who wants to spend the rest of their life with her. That’s not me anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.
I’m the worst.
Hanging my head down to contemplate how best to break the news to her—over dinner, or maybe somewhere public?—I stand in front of the chilled display cabinet with the dozens of little pots of desserts and reach for one. As I turn around, my body collides with a mass behind me before I can even look up.
“Shit! Sorry,” I blurt out, quickly glancing up. An unfamiliar, intense tightness grips my entire body before I can even face whoever I ran into. I stop in my tracks as the scent of bittersweet blackcurrant with a faint undertone of sage hits my nose, completely ordinary but remarkable at the same time.
I blink and for a fleeting, perfect moment in time, I am nothing butthis right now.
The whole world slows and becomes sharper in a strangely tranquil way. Only that smell remains, and all I can hear is the sound of my heart pounding in my chest. My stomach swoops and flutters, and somehow, I'm not afraid of this sudden shift.Instead, it is soothing and comforting in the most profound sense.
With my mouth half open, I watch the back of whoever it was as he rushes away. He doesn’t look at me, turn, or even slow down.
I blink again to make sure I’m awake, and look at my trembling hand by my side. Turning it around to see my palm, I try to understand why it feels like something is buzzing underneath my skin, all the way from the spot near my shoulder where our bodies touched. It’s like I got woken up by a bucketful of freezing water.
“Hey,” someone speaks behind me, making me jump. “Are you done?”
“Ye-yeah, sorry,” I mutter, moving out of the way so the woman can reach for the desserts, too.
Still confused, I slowly head back to the table, but have to turn to see where that man went. His pheromones stay on my tongue as I open my mouth to wet my lips. No one else seems bothered or alarmed. Is it just me?
He sits in the corner across the room, with some of the office and design staff. Short, tight curls fall in his face as he leans over, focused on his food while others chat around him. His beard is neatly trimmed and full, long just enough to cover the pale skin underneath. He’s completely unassuming in his loose gray sweater and black slacks.
Ben already looks me up and down when I approach our table. He raises his brow and darts his eyes to the side in a questioning expression. “You alright?” he asks with a confused chuckle.
I sit down, my heart still pounding wildly inside my chest.
Am I?
“Yeah,” I say, placing down the pot of tiramisu. Suddenly, I don’t really care for the sweet treat anymore. My mind’s completely wiped, and all I can think about is— “Is that person new here?” I ask, staring in the direction of the man, hoping Ben saw him. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”
“Who?”
“Hm?” one of the guys around the table speaks up, straightening their back to look where I’m looking. They all perk up and become interested, the damn gossipy lot.
“The guy with dark brown hair, corner table, by the window. Gray sweater.”
Ben shrugs. “No idea, dude.”
“Is that the pregnant omega from design?” Blake wonders out loud. My pulse quickens even more. I hardly ever go to the design engineers. Usually, some other poor fool deals with the task of bothering them with questions and asking for changes to the plans. “I think Bethany said something about that. Started a couple of weeks ago. Something about a transfer from the eastern branch of Torken.”
