Page 96 of The Other Side
My cheeks heated at the implication.
Chance glanced over my shoulder, his body going rigid.
I turned in his arms to see what had caused such a tense reaction, only to recognize a tall older gentleman, who was the spitting image of Chance, although his features were distinctly colder, striding toward us: his father.
Immediately my protective instincts took over. That man had traumatized Chance and had made him feel less than for his entire life. I didn’t want Chance to have to interact with him if he didn’t want to, and clearly his body language was screaming that he wanted to be anywhere other than under the gaze of his father.
On top of all that, I wasn’t sure how I’d react to meeting the infamous Thomas Roberts. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold back from telling him what I really thought of him and his treatment of Chance growing up. What if I blurted out that he didn’t deserve to have such a kind, thoughtful and creative son, who shaped his own destiny, in spite of what he had been put through? I didn’t trust that I could play the polite, obedient, and charming girlfriend.
Girlfriend!?
“Let’s get some air,” I said quickly.
Chance’s body was tense as he escorted me off the dance floor, through the areas where servers were working, and toward the back of the house, where he ushered me into a glass atrium, lit with dozens of strings of fairy lights. It was like something out of a movie.
The buzz of the crowd and the faint music of the string instruments could just barely be heard through the open door. Chance’s father, it seemed, had not followed us.
Although the atrium was enclosed, the lack of insulation still left the room much more frigid in the winter cold. Without having to say a word, Chance removed his suit coat and slungit around my shoulders, before leading me to a comfortable padded bench facing toward the darkness of the backyard. Even with the string lights, I could just make out the constellations dotting the skies on such a clear night.
“Do you think the dress is okay?” I asked, still needing reassurance that I hadn’t made a fool out of myself and him as a result.
Chance held my hand as I tucked the dress under me to sit without tripping over the skit.
His eyes widened at the question. “Okay?” He chuckled.
I followed him as he sat down next to me, wrapping an arm around me to pull me into his side. “I didn’t think it was possible that I’d like looking at you in anything more than those skin-tight cat burglar pants of yours, but you’ve outdone yourself tonight.”
“You mean Amanda outdid herself,” I corrected him.
He narrowed his gaze at me. “No. This dress is all you. Black and dark, but soft to the touch.” Chance ran his fingertip along the hem resting just below my collarbone. “My muse, always wanting to hide in the darkness and pretending you aren’t as tenderhearted as I know you to be.”
Chance leaned his cheek against the top of my head. “I think that’s why I was so drawn to photographing you. It was in the moments when you thought nobody was watching that I began to see the real you. The one you don’t just hide from everyone else, but the one you try to hide from yourself. The Violet who cares about others. The Violet who cares what others think of her—hating that their opinions matter so much, but not sure how to get out of your head to move beyond the need to please them.”
I flinched at his unfortunately accurate assessment.
“I know, sweetheart.” He ran his hand up and down my shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone.”
It’ll be our secret.
How was it that despite what both of us had been through in our lives, how our parents had failed us so spectacularly, that we had still managed to find each other? It occurred to me then that it was rather miraculous, in fact. And we’d both fought, in our own ways, for each other.
It felt inevitable in some way, that our paths were always meant to cross, that Chance and I were always meant to form a connection, that we needed each other to fill in the gaps that the other lacked. There was a certainty…a finality in how far we had come.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to mention to you,” Chance said cautiously.
My heart fluttered. If he was about to say what I thought he was about to say, I wasn’t sure I was ready—I didn’t know if I could say it back.
I glanced up at him. His blue-grey eyes met mine, in turmoil. Inside, the party guests began to chant, counting down together, toward the new year.
Ten.
“I think we need to stop looking into Daniel’s disappearance.”
Nine.
My mouth popped open. That wasn’t what I had been expecting. “What?” I squawked.
Eight.
