Page 3 of Craving Oblivion

Or who were taller than six one or could sing. Or that I actually cared about.

“There’s nothing to say,” I replied.

I stared past him, waiting for him to run out of emotional steam and leave. I remained a few feet away on the large terrace, looking out over the sprawling traditional British garden. I wished I could transport myself to the gazebo at the far end. I needed to be alone.

I touched my wrist, after all this time, still not used to my missing malas.

I’d had nearly two years to acclimate to my life without Mum, without Nash, but nothing had seemed to level out.

“You think there’s nothing to say about the fact that I want you to be more emotionally available?” Yamir snapped.

Yamir Ali, the scion of United Arab Emirates oil barons, paced and cursed, clearly not used to breaking up.

I’d dated him to appease my father and because I wanted a connection with someone. That hadn’t happened, not once. I touched my wrist again, missing the bracelet’s comforting weight, missing my mother. Missing Nash, in spite of myself.

I shut down the thought before I could conjure up his face. He was traveling Europe with his band, Oblivion. The name shocked me even as it felt like an insult. Nash wanted to obliterate the life he’d had? The person I’d known? Fine.

He’d moved on without me. Why couldn’t I do the same? I frowned.

“Finally, an emotion,” Yamir said, throwing his hands in the air.

I blinked up at him, nonplussed by his dramatics. “I have emotions. And right now, I’m annoyed.” I sighed. “Look, it’s been fun, but it’s over.”

Yamir reached forward and gripped my bare shoulders. The gown I wore tonight was held in place by a swath of material that wound close to my neck and clasped to the high panel on my chest, leaving my shoulders and upper back bare. The rose color complemented my skin and the exorbitant price tag hadn’t caused me to flinch, so at the urging of Harriet, my father’s wife, I’d bought her and my younger sisters’ gowns, too.

“You can’t mean that, Aya,” Yamir protested. “I’m good for you. We could have fun in bed.” He smiled, flashing his white even teeth, made even more stark against his tanned skin.

I kept my face devoid of emotion, not wanting to offend him. His kisses were…fine. But I’d never experienced anything like being held in Nash’s arms. I stepped away, hugging my waist, needing to break this abominable habit of comparing every man I met to Nash Porter.

At least I hadn’t had sex with him.

“This is over, Yamir,” I said, my tone as cool as my interest in him. “Accept it like a gentleman.”

He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw ticking, before he sneered. “You are a cold, tiny-hearted bitch.” He stomped away.

I sighed, touching my elegant updo. Breaking up with men was tiresome. Life, in general, was an annoyance.

That could be, in part, because I was still in London, attending yet another party of the social season at my father’s request. “You’re about to start your junior year at university, Aya. It’s time for you to plan out the next stage of your life,” he’d told me. “Princess Diana was about your age when she married Charles.”

The princess might have been older, but I felt ancient. I pulled my phone from my clutch, taking a moment for myself. The alert I saw there stilled my breath. My mouth formed the word no, but I couldn’t manage to exhale.

Model and actress Carolina Syad killed in fiery crash near Milan

Oh, Nash. His mother was dead. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, then bolted inside and wove my way through the partygoers.

Harriet waylaid me with a soft hand to my arm. “What’s wrong, dear? Yamir seemed upset.”

I blinked. Yamir? Right. “We broke up.”

Harriet sighed in that soft but disdainful way that told me she wasn’t happy. “And whose fault was that?”

“Mine,” I said, tone flat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to go home.”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment before a calculating gleam appeared. “I understand.”

No, she didn’t. She didn’t care, either.

I needed my space. I longed to be back in Austin, in one of the apartments near UT’s downtown campus, going to school and making friends with people there who I’d cherish for the rest of my life. I’d never felt grounded, settled the way I had during my time in Austin—despite how it fell apart at the end. I still wondered if I could get it back.

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