Against All Odds

Chapter 31

KILLIAN

"This week wasn't real, Killian.'

Leaning back in my chair, in the seat I had been allocated right beside the woman who had uttered those exact words a few hours earlier, I couldn't help but feel how wrong they were.

My fingers toyed with the edges of a glass of whiskey, staring with unseeing eyes at the condensation that formed and trickled slowly down the crisp slopes of the tumbler. Music blared through the hall, yet my ears weren't tuned to the sounds reaching them. Occasionally, I would endure a conversation from one of my friends or another wedding guest, but my mind and heart weren't in it.

Stella had sat down once since our conversation outside, and even then she had picked at a small portion of food, devoted to not meeting my gaze, and then- having eaten very little- excused herself and conversed with guests at another table.

She seemed lively, animated, and if I didn't know any better- unaffected. The smile on her face seemed natural, but when she thought no one was watching her, I saw the strain on her lips, her eyes darkening and tensing at the corners.

Currently, I watched as she had yet another shot of tequila with Braylee at the bar before moving to the dance floor where they were joined by Sadie. The three of them hopped about to some upbeat song that got them excitable, tossing their arms in the air and their heads from side to side. Dom joined them, attempting to do the worm while simultaneously holding his beer, but then a stoic-looking server came over to presumably ask him to desist.

It was a happy moment, captured by numerous flashes of a camera, and I was glad and disappointed.

Disappointed because I couldn't bring myself to partake of the moment, not right then, not when I knew it would make Stella feel awkward.

So I sat alone at our table and watched.

Watched and thought, my heart a mess of emotions I was struggling to untangle.

Was Stella right? Were we just too incompatible to actually work?

If I put aside the issues with my mother and looked at us in the grand scheme of our lives together, picked apart pieces of my life that I wanted and parts that she wanted- it seemed like we were cut from a different cloth.

I longed for stability and structure, following a linear path with my career that was gradually allowing me to ascend a ladder of command that would bring me financial comfort later on in life. I enjoyed travel and the complications I had to analyse in my research, but at the end of the day I was putting down roots and ensuring a future- for myself and my future family. Kids? Yeah, sure, but I had ample time yet to nurture the idea of them and even if I didn't procreate, I think I could handle that.

Stella's career appeared volatile as she danced to her own tune, her own words informing me that she liked not having a structured path resonating with her unpredictable nature. I couldn't decide if that was a quality I admired about her or something that worried me. She was not conventional and even if I didn't find myself prescribing to everyday normalcy, I could see how she would find my ways of thinking, my desires and goals, conventional.

Maybe, in that regard, we were doomed to fail.

I found my gaze drawn to her, inevitably, and she threw back her head and laughed at Dom, who was now "flossing". Her hair had come loose and tumbled around her shoulders and back in clusters of thick waves. The yellow satin dress still clung to every delectable curve of her body that made every nerve-ending in my body come alive.

I had to drag my gaze away from her because even if she was right, even if we would never be compatible in a relationship, I still wanted her.

I still wanted to try.