“Lewis,” I whispered.
“I fell for you,” he said. “A year ago. I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”
“This could never work…for so many reasons.”
“You don’t know that.”
I sighed heavily. “But I do.”
“Just let me try. Let me prove to you that what I feel is real.” He reached out and grasped my hand. “Give me a chance.”
I shook my head and pulled away. “I’m sorry. But I dated Penn. Maybe if I’d met you first.” I closed my eyes. My heart shuddered.
“I hardly ever see Penn anymore. Things are different now.”
“But none of that is true,” I continued on. “And you still participated in the bet.”
“Participated is a strong word.”
“You lied to me about it,” I reminded him.
“I thought you were happy,” he explained earnestly. “Yes, I lied. I told you what you wanted to hear because I couldn’t imagine being the one to break that news to you over the phone. Penn should have been the one to do it. To man up and tell you the truth. But the last thing I wanted was to shatter your heart when you seemed so happy.”
“I was happy,” I whispered. “And, now…I’m not, and this is too much. I don’t want to be a part of this life. I’m sorry…”
And I was sorry.
I was sorry to see the pain in his eyes. To see his feelings shine through. I hated wondering if it could have been. If the circumstances had been different. But they weren’t.
So, I left Lewis standing alone on that balcony.
Left it all behind. Again.
Part II
Every Artist Needs A Muse
Penn
7
“Okay, that’s all for today. I’ll see you all on Friday.”
The students in my lecture class began to pack up their books, and my teaching assistant, Chelle, hurried forward from the back row. I turned away from the lectern to collect the remaining papers that hadn’t been picked up from that class.
“Great class, Dr. Kensington,” Chelle said.
“Thank you, Chelle. Though I think it was lost on most of the students.”
“Yeah, well, undergrads,” she said with a shrug.
I stuffed the papers in my bag. “I wish more of them showed up to class. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be failing so many people.”
Chelle huffed. She had been dealing with the brunt of the students this semester. Apparently, I was intimidating. Though…it hadn’t kept the small number of female students from relentlessly hanging around my office hours.
My eyes lifted as another presence entered the room. It was a slight shift in the room, as if the air were suddenly charged. I sighed when I saw who was standing there.
“We’re going to have to postpone our meeting, Chelle. Let’s reschedule for Friday.”
Chelle glanced behind her and raised her eyebrows. “Sure thing, Dr. Kensington. Let me know if you need anything else before then.”
“Of course. If you’ll excuse me.”
I left Chelle where she was standing and strode across the room. I’d been anticipating this encounter for the last couple of weeks. I’d been purposely, conspicuously busy. Finalizing a hopefully groundbreaking book on philosophical ethics had that tendency. Though…I had used it as an excuse more than was strictly necessary.
“Katherine,” I said warily.
“Hello, Penn,” she said with a formality that I knew meant she was angry with me.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She tilted up her cherry-red lips and tossed back her supermodel mane of dark waves. “So, seeing me is a pleasure now? That’s why you’ve been avoiding the crew?”
“I’ve been busy.”
She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Sure you have.”
“What do you want, Ren?”
“You know what I want. You haven’t responded to my RSVP.”
I shot her a knowing look. Then, I pushed past her and out into the brisk New York morning. The click of her high heels followed me onto Columbia’s campus in the heart of the Upper West Side.
“Why must you make this difficult?” she asked, walking as if she were on the prowl in a short black dress and fur jacket that I knew her father had left for her. She was lucky to still own it after all of their assets had been frozen and liquidated to pay his securities fraud.
“Am I making it difficult?”
“Yes. You know that you are.”
I glanced over at her as we walked brick pathways around manicured lawns toward the library. “You want me to go to this sham of a wedding?”
Katherine gave me a flat look. “Well, you’re not about to change your mind and sweep me off my feet, are you?”
“No,” I said, mirroring her tone.
“I didn’t think so.”
“You’re really going to marry him?”
“A bet’s a bet.”
I halted my steps. “Katherine…is this really what this is all about?”
“I don’t want to talk about this with you, Penn. The wedding is set for the Saturday before Christmas. It’s happening in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and no expense has been spared,” she said sharply. “Are you coming or not?”
I searched her face. I didn’t know why I’d expected to find anything in her eyes. She didn’t love…or even like Camden Percy. Who could love that egotistical, manipulative asshole? And, with the tragic downfall of her parents’ own marriage, how could she envision anything else for herself? She’d dug her own grave with Percy. Now, she had to lie in it.