His to Consume

Forgive me

Lena's POV

The rest of the evening went by with the presentation of speeches, singing of toasts, and general merry interactions that occur when people are well-dressed and celebrating. Even as I sat beside him with his hand still holding mine even tighter, the words of the bartender kept on haunting me. Engaged. It seemed that this was the only word that was playing in my mind over and over again, tracing back the memories that I wished would die down.

I shifted my gaze to Damien. He was fully engaged in a polite conversation with someone from another company, actively involved by nodding along to what they were saying. Taking a glance back at him composed and calm, concentrating on the moment, he pulled me back to the ground once again. He was most deserving of my attention and I did want to pay it to him and to us, this new stage in my life that I was beginning. But the persistent thoughts irritably refused to abandon me.

After a while, I felt it unnecessary to hold Damien's hand anymore and turned a little. "I think I am stepping out for some air," I stated softly while giving him a smile that would ease his worries.

There was concern written all over his face, but he nodded. "Okay, take your time. I will be here when you need me."

I managed to get out of the ballroom and walked down a hallway that was devoid of any sounds of laughter or cowing of glasses. The noise within me was calmed when I found a silent balcony that faced the city. The cold outside was also welcome. I took a large pull of air then exhaled through my mouth as I closed my eyes for a second, trying to compose myself.

However, there was no longer a silence.

A voice spoke from behind me. "Didn't expect to see you out here alone."

Dread pooled in my stomach, and I hesitated to look back. There he was, hands in pockets, that same torturing grin plastered on his face. The guy was wearing a well-tailored tuxedo, his hair was a little messy, and he was looking all cool and collected, just as I remembered him. That same striking feature that had captivated me before and left me with feelings I had worked so hard to bury.

"I went outside to breathe," I said, eschewing the smoky irritation trying to reach my voice, whilst hoping he wouldn't see the way my fingers had clenched on the balcony rail.

He nodded his agreement and moved a few paces closer. "I saw you leave the festivities. I figured you'd want to talk to someone."

I returned her shake of the head whilst focusing elsewhere away from him. "I am good, Grant. Company is not needed."

"Are you sure?" he inquired, lowering the level of his voice, almost as if pitying me, knowing full well that I was an open book.

Tight jaws formed, I intended to stare at the city lights, with no intention of looking back at him. "I am sure."

A tic passed, and then he exhaled, that exhalation was weighed with exasperation. "Lena, listen, I know that we had gone to the land of the dead even before. I have errors, and I understand them if you revile me. But come on... you cannot say that there was nothing between us. I mean, it is not something that evaporates in thin air."

I shut my eyes, and his carefully crafted speeches actually pierced my heart. I did not wish to remember such a period. A visitation full of warmth, bright laughter, best of pledges-all memories made in one chapter that I was desperately trying to end.

"There was something," I muttered, at last aligning my gaze with his. "But it's in the past now, Grant. You've moved on, and so have I."

He stared at me and his gaze was penetrating. "Is that what you really want?"

"Yes," I replied with resolution, not allowing even the slightest tremor in my voice. "I have someone who cares for me. Someone I can rely upon."

Grant's face grew darker, he advanced even closer, his stare raking me. "And you believe he'll bring you joy? You think he'll do what I was unable to do?"

I took a long slow breath, in an attempt to suppress my emotions. "Yes, I do. Because he is straight up with me, and he does not get into any fun business."

Grant's jaw clenched and his eyes held an intense mix of anger and something that looked like remorse. "I never wanted it to end up like this, Lena. I was just ..."

"Thinking of yourself," I finished and did not budge. "You were thinking of yourself, Grant. You wanted everything to happen the way you wanted it. I grew tired of you making me wait while you figure it out. I am worth more than that."

He was silent, looking down as though he finally accepted the consequences of what he had done. For that short time, he looked almost helpless, and that right there is where I felt pity, the kind that emerges when the hubris of a loved one has finally been brought low, and they are forced to confront their failings.

But I could not allow myself to be drawn back into that. I had a new life now, a life I was in the process of constructing with someone who loved me and wanted a future with me.

"I'm sorry Grant," I said in a low voice, mindful of the gravity of what I said as it hung in the air between us. "The thing is, whatever it is that we had... it's gone."

He glanced at me but offered no more clarity, as though he was convinced without me saying it. That was it. No turning back.

With a slight nod, he stepped back, his face an impassive mask. 'Okay Lena, I ... I hope you do splendidly.'

He pivoted then, walking away from me, melding into the darkness of the corridor. I lingered on the balcony for a few moments more, allowing the heavy deliberations of the previous encounter to settle in, accompanied by a queer feeling of relief and sadness. Finally, I moved on.

When I came back to the ballroom, Damien was back to welcome me, with his sight growing tender at the very sight of me. He was silent then but had to reach for my hand as if to tell me that he was there and was not leaving any time soon. There was a calmness in me, one that I knew I had never possessed.

"You want to leave now?" he asked, sounding much softer than earlier.

I nodded and offered him a smile of appreciation. "Yes. It's time to go."

While we stepped out of the room clutching each other's hands, I realized that I had finally appeared to have shaken off the shackles that had imprisoned me on my yesterdays. It was true that Grant lived in my past, but it was equally true that he would not control my tomorrow. And with Damian, I was relieved, optimistic about the future.