Knox
Answering the remaining questions from Melody becomes a struggle, especially when she brings up Reese's terrible date and asks if I know the jerk who hurt her. I resist the urge to confess, knowing that Reese doesn't want her coworkers to know about it. My initial apology for my immature behaviour when I first arrived in town now feels insufficient. Talking to Melody has made me realize that I owe Reese more than just an apology—I owe her the truth, an explanation.
That's where I need to go now that Melody has stopped bombarding me with questions. Reese told Melody she doesn't know why I acted the way I did. If I want us to be friends, I have to provide an explanation. And I genuinely want us to be friends. I've put in a lot of effort to show her how well we connect, but I can't blame her for being hesitant. She doesn't understand what went wrong between us last time. From her perspective, we were friends until suddenly we weren't. And then she discovered I thought she was a snob.
Returning to my desk, I keep my gaze on Reese. "Did you email Bob?"
"Just about done. How did the interview go?"
"Reese, we need to talk."
She looks up but avoids meeting my eyes. "If it's about the story, can it wait until tomorrow? I have some work to finish before the retreat."
"It's about Prom."
"Knox—"
"I know you don't want to discuss it, Reese, but I owe you an explanation."
Finally, our eyes meet. My heart aches as I once again catch a glimpse of hurt in her dark eyes.
Surveying the crowded office, I suggest, "Can we find somewhere private?"
She shakes her head. "I really need to finish my work. Can we have this conversation after we leave?"
"Okay," I reluctantly agree.
I've rehearsed my apology and explanation the entire way back to the office, and I'm eager to get it over with. But she's waited for this conversation for a decade, so I can wait a little longer for her now.
Five o'clock feels like it takes ages to arrive, and when it finally does, Reese sighs and closes her laptop. My heart pounds against my ribcage, adrenaline surging through me. I tug at my shirt collar, suddenly feeling constricted.
In silent agreement, we head to the parking lot together. Since the elevator is still crowded with our co-workers, I don't bring up the conversation. It's not until we reach the parking lot that we're finally alone. I walk her to her car in silence, and once we get there, she places her jacket and laptop in the backseat, leaning against the car as she watches me.
Standing across from her, I cross my arms and take a deep breath. "Do you remember when we were friends in high school?"
"It was more than just a friendship, Knox. And yes, I remember," she replies.
I nod, trying to gather my thoughts. "Well, you know I had my own issues, with my father and with Magpie Grove. I felt like I meant nothing because my mother was dirt poor, and my wealthy father never wanted anything to do with me. He saw me as a mistake and a burden." I pause briefly. "I thought you were different. I wanted to ask you out, but on the day I finally built up the courage to do it, I overheard you telling Bex that you wouldn't date me. You mentioned that your father would never allow me into your house. It made me angry, and I wanted to make you pay for that."
Her eyes widen, and a frown creases her brow. She seems to contemplate my words, and I fight the urge to look away or fidget as a wave of anxiety washes over me.
"I don't recall the conversation with Bex, but my dad wouldn't let anyone into the house, Knox," she says, her voice gentle yet firm. "I wasn't allowed to have people over. And going on a date with anyone would have been impossible because my father was going through a mental breakdown. He was terrified something would happen to me and spent most nights locked in his room crying. That conversation would have applied to anyone."
"It wasn't just about me?" I ask, my voice filled with disbelief.
She shakes her head. "No."
"On prom night, you said the only reason you went with me was because of the bet," I continue.
Her mouth turns downward, and she shrugs, avoiding eye contact. "What else was I supposed to say? I had just found out that you never wanted to go with me."
"Wasn't that the truth?" I inquire.
She still avoids meeting my gaze. The overwhelming urge to step forward and tilt her chin up, to see her eyes and understand her thoughts and emotions, nearly overtakes me.
"No," she finally admits.
That one word squeezes the air out of my lungs, and my stomach drops. "I always thought you walked around thinking you were better than me."
"Well, I didn't," she responds.
"Fuck," I mutter, running a hand over my face, before focusing my gaze on the woman standing before me, a woman I failed to truly see a decade ago.
On prom night, she mentioned how significant it was that her father allowed her to go. I had assumed it was because he had an issue with me. But now, I realize it was a big deal because it was likely her first time going out or dating since her mother's death. I don't think I could feel like a bigger jerk if I tried.
"I messed up everything, didn't I?" I say, my voice filled with remorse.
"Yeah, you did," she replies.
Her intense gaze meets mine, and for a brief moment, I imagine what our high school experience would have been like if that misunderstanding never occurred.
The memory of how she felt in my arms on prom night, the way she kissed me with such passion that it took my breath away, is etched into my mind. Once I had a taste of her, I never wanted to let her go. God, how I wish I could have a do-over. I ruined not only our prom but also a friendship that meant the world to me.
One that I'm desperately trying to rebuild.
No wonder she's cautious. She never understood why I walked away, and my own insecurities fuelled my actions. I misjudged her. And then I hurt her.
Reese opens her car door. "I'm going to head out."
I want her to stay. I want to take her out for dinner and start the process of earning back her trust, offering more apologies. But I can't force this friendship upon her. It will take time to regain what I lost.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," I say. "Do you want me to drive?"
She shakes her head. "I'll pick you up from your hotel at midday."
"I'll be there."
A sick feeling churns in my stomach, and a pang of pain hits my chest as I watch her drive away. The distance between us now is the distance I created ten years ago. I'm not sure if I deserve a second chance at being her friend, but I want one nonetheless.
Unfortunately, there's no second chance when it comes to prom night. I wish I never asked her out as part of some stupid bet. But wishing won't change the fact that I did. There's no point dwelling on what could have been if I had taken her on a proper date. I can't turn back time and rewrite history. That opportunity has passed, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth that even water can't wash away.
Reese
Thoughts of Knox consume my mind as I drive home from work. I left him standing in the parking lot, unsure of what to say. He acted out of hurt when he made that bet our senior year of high school. Hurt that stemmed from his misinterpretation of a conversation that, honestly, I don't remember. And he never bothered to ask me about it before seeking revenge.
Part of me wants to hold it against him; it feels safer that way. Yet his apology has shifted something between us. He offered the explanation I secretly longed for. He wanted to ask me out, but he believed I would reject him because I thought I was superior to him—because I was perceived as a snob.
After the obvious rejection he experienced from his father, I became the target of his anger. The one he felt he could take it out on. But it doesn't make me feel any better. My prom was still ruined, my heart was still broken, even though it happened ten years ago. He was just a teenage boy who made a mistake, and I genuinely believe he is sorry for it. I can't hold onto my grudge any longer.
But that doesn't make him any less dangerous to me.
When I finally arrive home, all I want to do is pour myself a large glass of wine, turn on the TV, and try to stop thinking. However, the car parked outside my house means I'll have to postpone my plans.
"This is a surprise," I say to Max as he climbs out of his car and joins me on the front doorstep. "What are you doing here?"
I give him a quick kiss before unlocking the door and gesturing for him to come inside. Instead, he leans against the side of my house and watches me.
"You're still going to the retreat with him, aren't you?" he asks.
I sigh, looking away before meeting his gaze again. My conversation with Knox has taken an emotional toll on me, and I don't want to have this discussion with Max now.
When I remain silent, he shakes his head. "You're really going to pretend to be married to the guy?"
"I need to do this for my brother, Brendan, and Knox and Chapman-"
"You've been obsessed with this story for months. I understand your need to get to the bottom of everything, but with Knox...?"
"I didn't have a choice, Max. It was the only way the paper would send me."
"So you're going to spend the weekend, the whole week, with a man who..."
"Max, this is my job. This is what I do."
"I can handle it, Reese."
"Okay?" My response comes out more like a question because ever since the retreat with Knox came up, he's been upset. And the way he started this conversation...
"I can," he says, stepping closer to me and looking at me seriously. "But what I'm not okay with is not knowing where I stand with you." He pulls me into his arms. "Reese, we've been seeing each other for a year now. When I envision my future, I see you in it." He takes my hand and gently kisses my knuckles. "What I really need to know is if you see me in your future?"
I open my mouth and then close it again. I want to say yes. The hope in his eyes makes me wish I felt more for him than I do. But I can't lie to him. I don't see him as part of my future. At least not right now.
Max looks down at me, and the hope that was once in his eyes fades away, replaced by disappointment that punches me in the gut. "I was afraid that was the case."
His hurt tone makes my chest ache. He's a good man, and he's always treated me well. So why don't I love him? Why don't I see him in my future?
"I hoped it was just the story and how hard you've been working, but it's not, is it?" he presses.
Perhaps it's just how busy I've been—how busy I always am. I rarely take a break these days. And with Knox back in the picture, I find myself even more distracted, more consumed by the past. But even before Knox reappeared, Max was never a priority, and deep down, I know I don't love him the way he wants me to.
I shake my head slowly. "I'm sorry, Max."
"Me too."
He lowers his head and brushes a kiss across my lips. It's a bittersweet farewell. But I can't ignore the fact that I don't feel the flutter of excitement that I should, and the pain I feel stems from hurting him rather than losing him.
"How about we catch up as friends once you're back?" he suggests.
I nod quickly, relieved that he's letting me off the hook so easily. It's more than I deserve. "That would be nice."
"It's a plan," he says, offering a smile. Then his smile falters. "I mean, not a plan, but-"
"Thank you, Max. I hope you know you deserve someone great."
"Take care during your week away, okay?" His frown replaces the grin. "Don't let Knox humiliate you again."
My smile tightens in response. "I have no intention of letting that happen."
Not this time. Both Knox and I have changed over the years. We're older, wiser. The last time Knox got the better of me, he was just an eighteen-year-old boy with a chip on his shoulder. Now, a decade later, he recognizes his mistakes, and I'm certain he's not out to humiliate me again.
But that doesn't mean I'm invincible, does it?
As today has shown, I'm still attracted to Knox, and that attraction could easily resurface and complicate matters. Especially when we're about to confront a dangerous hypnotist. I can't allow myself to be distracted or forget the real purpose of our presence at the retreat. I need to stay focused and uncover the truth about my brother, my neighbours, and Knox's father. The newspaper has invested a significant amount of money in this story about Von Gruber, and if I mess up, my job could be on the line.
"Goodbye, Reese." Max kisses my cheek before walking toward his car.
I let out a sigh as I step into my cozy cottage and close the door behind me. It's time for that glass of wine and some mindless TV. Hopefully, between now and the start of the retreat tomorrow, I can mentally prepare myself and adopt the right mindset to pretend that I'm happily married to my rival. I need to convince the most formidable marriage therapist in the world that Knox and I are committed to our marriage and destined for a blissful future together, without allowing our complicated history or my lingering attraction to him to throw me off track.
It's time to psych myself up and put on my game face.
A/N: Retreat next chapter, finally.
Kiss Me, Break My Heart is being written in tandem with Bet Me, so don’t forget to read those chapters if you haven’t already! :D
Where’s the rest?? I really like this