Too Close to Walk Away

Ava

The second we walked in it was obvious. The conversations still flowed in the same manner but it was clear the topic had changed. 

The way the eyes followed. Some leered, some jested and others were confused. 

“Who is she?”

“Why her?”

“He chose her of all people?” 

As though the pressure in the hall was different from the one outside, I felt a weight crushing down on me. I was out of place. 

My body tightened and I tightened my fists, wondering if leaving at this point was still an option. 

“Relax. They’re harmless.” Liam said, calmly. 

“I never said they weren’t.” I defended.

“Oh really? Because you look like you’re about to run.” 

I then noticed I was gripping his arm firmly, while he gently kept me in place. 

We walked deeper into the gala, and I felt even more out of place. 

Liam pulled me in. “You have nothing to fear.” He said, with absolute confidence. 

No reassurance, no optimism. He said it like a person stating a fact. And that reassured me more than I expected. 

Soon, Liam’s friends came one after the other. Each one trying to get what they could out of him. Some women came up to him, half staring at him and half staring at me. 

Each one measuring, assessing, disparaging. Once again, I was gripping into Liam too tightly, and he pulled me in.

Suddenly, there was a warmth that dulled the embarrassment. The feeling of not belonging. But it didn’t last. 

A woman suddenly came up to Liam, and she couldn’t have been much older than me. 

She had beautifully styled blonde hair, and a dress that showed it was expensive without effort. 

“Hey, Liam. Glad you could come.” She said warmly, and turned to me. “And who is this?”

“She’s with me.” Liam said, with the same indifference and factual confidence.

It wasn’t an introduction. But it was something. 

“That’s good. That’s good…” she said, then continued. “But you really want to be careful. Otherwise people start to wonder about the type of company you’re keeping these days.” 

Let it slide.

It wasn’t worth it. 

But I couldn’t stop on time before I heard myself saying, “And what type would that be?”

She turned to me surprised, as though not expecting me to speak up. 

She turned to Liam, expecting him to interfere and break up the mess she’d started. But he had no intention of doing so. 

“The temporary kind.” She said finally. 

Like a low blow, I bowed my head, staring at the floor, willing myself to vanish. 

“Alright thank you, Stephanie. You’ve been amazing.” Liam said, as he placed his hand around my waist and walked me away from her. 

“You know you didn’t have to do that right?” He asked. 

“I did.”

“For me or for you?” 

That was the problem. I wasn’t sure anymore. 

A waiter passed us with a tray of champagne, and Liam grabbed two glasses. Without my permission he placed it in my hand, and gulped down his. 

“I’m not really a drinker…” I said, staring warily at the glass. 

“You are tonight.”  

I stared down at the glass, and took a brave gulp. 

It wasn’t instant, but I felt it. The painfully loud music was dulling, the leering eyes and disparaging comments were dying down. And the searing feeling of being out of place was weakening. 

I had another drink. And then another. Until I simply didn’t care anymore. 

I was about to grab another, when Liam stopped me. 

“You don’t need more.” He said. 

“I haven’t had enough.”

“Drinking yourself to stupor wouldn’t solve anything, Ava.” 

“Oh? Then what will?” 

He said nothing, as he stared into my eyes, as though communicating his intentions through his eyes. 

And I felt it again. That palpitation. That thud in my chest that made me see Liam for more than what he let off. And I hated myself for that. 

“Come, let’s dance.” He invited, taking my hand.

I had never danced a day in my life. 

“I’m not really a dancer…” I said, trying to avoid the dance floor. 

“You are tonight.” He said, and led me forward. 

The eyes suddenly returned, and the alcohol seemed to lose its potency. The topics on the lips of the people around us were obvious. 

Once again, I wanted to leave. To walk out of this party that had done nothing but make me feel weird and inferior. 

Liam pulled me close to himself. He spread my palm, and fit his fingers in the spaces between mine. 

He then placed his right hand on my waist, and pulled me even closer.

“Liam…” 

“You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to. But if you leave now, they win.” He whispered as he moved to the rhythm of the music. 

I raised my head, and met his gaze. There was something more to them. Something beyond the conceit and indifference. 

I felt it again. The palpitation. 

And then I placed my other hand on his shoulder, and danced along with his rhythm. 

Slowly, steadily, I was getting the hang of it.

The eyes remained, but they didn’t matter anymore. Only one thing mattered. Only one person mattered. 

Liam. 

He didn’t break eye contact. He held on to me as he moved with the music, as he looked into my eyes, as though gazing at my very soul. 

He wasn’t Liam anymore. Or at least not the one I had come to know. He was… different. More human. He was no longer operating like a programmed machine. He looked like a real person. 

Our faces were much closer now, and I couldn’t pull away. I was engulfed in the rhythm, the flow, the passion. 

We danced until the music came to a climax, and we were a lips distance away, each one capable of reading the other’s unspoken thoughts. 

He led me out of the hall, holding me close, protective. 

Soon we were by his car, and he was opening the door for me. 

I didn’t want the night to end, but I didn’t want to tell him that either. 

One night. 

That had been the agreement. Whichever one amongst us broke that deal, would be responsible for the breach in etiquette. 

Soon Liam stopped outside a large luxurious house. 

“This isn’t my apartment…” I said, staring at him confused.

“Come inside.” He said, his tone inviting.

It wasn’t an order, and it didn’t sound like an ultimatum. Liam had never spoken to me in this manner before, and it set my heart ablaze. 

It was time to decide. I could choose

what I wanted, or I could choose what was right. I could blame it on the alcohol, but my thoughts were not clouded. 

I took his hand, and followed him in.