Five years later

There is nothing worse than standing out of place in a crowd. Everyone mingles and laughs at the New Years Eve Party while I’m apologizing for the slightest bump against anyone’s shoulder. They sip on high dollar champagne, while I find the cold empty wall embellished with crystal light fixtures to read alone. I’m like the fragile book clutched in my hands. The frail strings stitching me together rip apart the same way the spine holding the pages together splits down the middle. The once white pages of fresh ink fade in color like the last five years of my life.

Reading is the only way to keep my mind off my boyfriend Jason who is running over an hour late. Regret eats at my insides for even attempting to attend or to even wait for him another second. I should have figured he’d blatantly lied when he called claiming he was driving over. Anxiety twists in my stomach with each passing second imagining the worst scenarios possible. I place the book to my side and let out a deep breath. When I search the front door for him, a couple enters leaving my heart to drop even further into my stomach. It’s to the point where I regret even putting on the long—v neck silver dress.

"Come to parties often to read romance novels?" A male voice takes me off guard. He startles me enough, I drop my book to the marble floor and leap from my shoes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I noticed you’re here... alone... reading a book.” He says while we both kneel and pick up the book in sync. His rough hand brushes across mine and mesmerizing emerald eyes glance straight into me. Within seconds I snatch the book and stand back up turning my gaze away from him.

"Pride and Prejudice?" He asks. I turn slightly towards him. He rests a hand in the pockets of his black trousers. A thick chest presses against his button up shirt. I soak in his appearance realizing how big he stands compared to me. His tousled dark hair is thick and lustrous. A light smile etches its way across his strong defined face.

"Most men ask if they can get me a drink."

"Maybe coffee, if you'd let me," he says leaning against the wall. I chuckle under my breath and push away the loose strands of hair behind one ear.

"One word from you shall silence me forever," He quotes it. The weak smile on my lips disappears in an instant. The little ache in my heart pulsates. The man I want to say those words to me stood me up on New Years. Those simple words suddenly alter my entire mood and make me hate every ounce of my own skin. The man who I want isn’t standing next to me, but instead it’s a mere stranger trying to pick me up.

"I'm sorry," I stutter, "I am flattered, but..."

"Waiting for your date?” He interrupts before I could finish my sentence.

“Yeah…” I pause and glance back over towards the front door to only see Jason not appearing. It leaves me wondering what’s more important. It singes my lungs to think it might be someone else keeping him company.

“Tristan Calhoun," He holds out a hand.

"Hayden Bell, my friends sometimes call me Bell," I take hold of his firm hand. It’s warm, soft but strong to the touch.

"Kiss me Hayden Bell, and you'll know how important I am," He states, and plants a tiny kiss on the tip of my fingertips. A wave of confusion washes over me, and I immediately yank my hand away from his grip.

"I—I should really find my boyfriend.” I stutter and turn my back against Tristan. I’m not up for a stranger trying to pick me up for a midnight fling on New Years. The thought of another man wanting to use me sends a violent chill down my spine. I pick up the fabric of my long dress and turn my foot towards the front door.

"You’ve been staring at the door since you arrived," he says loud enough for me to halt.

I spin around with my nails digging into the dress. I take a huff in and let it spit out,

"Well, you’re probably have better luck at throwing Sylvia Plath quotes at someone else.” I swallow the bulge in my throat. Regret pounds in my chest as I should keep my mouth shut.

He busts out in a light laugh. " You’re cute. By the way, not many females here know who Sylvia Plath is."

"I doubt you know who she is either. You probably found the quote on social media to help you pick up chicks at a party," I emphasize. “I’m sorry but I’m not going to be swept away from some impassioned jackass who would have better luck with a naive drunk from the dance floor?”

He rubs the light stubble of hair on his chin and a laugh erupts from his lips. He covers his mouth as he starts coughing from laughing. "He stood you up,” Tristan breaks to the chase before I can even admit it to myself.

“No, he is running late,” I deny the fact I’ve been waiting a century for Jason to arrive.

Tristan points and index finger at me with one eyebrow raised as he says, "You're lying."

. "Never!" I exclaim slamming the book to the side of my thigh. I roll my eyes and turn back to the front door with a heart sinking further into my stomach. “I’m being rude. I’m sorry.” I waver a smile but keep my back turned away from Tristan leaning against the wall. “Don’t you have something better to do than harass me?”

“Besides talking to the prettiest girl at the party. No.”

“I’m nothing special.”

"I am guessing you don't want to be at this party any more than I do?"

“You’re right. I don’t.” I pause a moment. I hate parties because I can never fit in. My whole world is falling apart, and all I can do is stare blankly as everyone else enjoys life. I wish for once to feel enjoyment but all I want to do is run away from here.

Jason appears through the ballroom doors tucking in his collared button up shirt. A relief washes over me. “I’m sorry I have to go.” I wave a hand and I leave Tristan on the wall rushing over towards my boyfriend who shoulder checks other guests. He straightens his suspenders for his suit. His dress coat hangs over his shoulder while his white button up shirt isn’t fully tucked into his trousers.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for you for over an hour.” I ask, taking a step forward. My heart pounds wanting a genuine honest answer.

“Don’t worry about it, Hayden.” He grumbles under his breath and pulls the jacket over his shoulders. It slips over his molded muscular arms. He pats down on this jacket sleeves to remove unwanted hair.

“You said you were on your way a hour ago. At least tell me what held you up.”

Jason merely huffs as he adjusts his trousers and retorts, “It’s nothing. I got caught up in paperwork.”

It’s another excuse to cover up whatever he hides because they closed the facility for the holidays. There is no paperwork, and his lies are clouding his cold dead stare unwilling to tell me exactly what held him up.

“On New Year’s?” I drop my gaze from his eyesight feeling the hurtful sting inside my chest of him hiding the truth. If anything, I wish he would be honest instead of trying to cover it up.

Before he even answers he exasperates a huff. “Why are you questioning me?”

“I’m not.” I lie and cough up a fake smile to show him I’m happy he arrived. The small, suffocated part of me wonders if my perceptions are true or if I am going crazy. Jason tells me I am overthinking and worry too much. I’m insecure, and I need to learn to calm down and trust him. I wish his actions would show me I could.

“Who are you dressed up for?” He asks and throws his hands in the air taking one step back to glance at the dress. “Hayden you even brought one of your damn books too. This is why we can never have a good night together. You’re always ignoring me for a damn book.” Without warning he snatches the book from my hands knocking it to the floor.

“What the hell Jason? It’s New Years. This is a dress my mom bought in high school. Remember the prom we never went to? We decided to spend the night at the docks instead.” I argue as I snatch the book from the floor, but Jason yanks it from my grip.

“Of course, I remember the night of prom, but you didn’t wear this dress. I can’t believe you walked out of the apartment dressed like this. Do you not care about what you look like? You’re supposed to be modest and professional.”

“Everyone else here is dressed more provocative than me.” I point towards the girls on the dance floor in strapless bodycon dresses. They grind on each other to the beat of the dance music booming off the walls.

“Now you are denying it. When we got together, I thought you’d only want me but you’re wanting attention from other men here. I should just pack up and leave already.” Jason says it without looking me in the eyes. It’s such a painful statement I’ve heard half a dozen times recently. Each times the pain of the words cuts deeper into my chest, and it guts me into nothing.

“What are you, a chauvinistic pig? I grumble the insult under my breath seeing my new year won’t be a fresh start but a brutal one. I can spinelessly pray and wish at the stroke of midnight for a miracle to change my life around. Instead, I know I’ll wake up in the same miserable lonely body wondering where I went wrong.

"Can we not deal with your bullshit here?” Jason crumples the book in his hand. The pages rip from it.

"I always bring a book with me. I’ll wear what I want and by the way I dressed up for you, but maybe I’ll find someone knew too.” I say with hitching breaths to hold back the tears from his view. Knowing Jason, he’ll insult my crying too.

"Whatever, just mope around like you always do," he barks. He throws my book against the wall. His hands fall into his pockets, and he strolls away into the crowd. I turn my back in the opposite direction with heels hitting the floor hard. Once I find a table covered in empty champagne bottles and half eaten cake, I crumble into the seat with tears staining my cheeks.

The foldable chair squeaks against the marble floor as Tristan sits down with my Pride and Prejudice book in his hand. No words are said as he pushes it towards me. I am unsure what came over me but I heave in a deep breath feeling it crawl out underneath my skin.

"Would you like to dance?" Tristan asks and flashes me half a smile exposing his straight teeth.

“What?” I say in mist of a sob. I wipe the edge of my cheek with the back of my hand now stained in mascara.

"You shouldn’t be crying on New Years," He tilts his head. I shake my head feeling another storm brewing with regret. I lose my gaze with him and stare at my lap.

“I’ll be fine. He doesn’t mean it.” I suck in a deep breath trying to calm myself down but another wave of blood boiling and this painful throb in my chest causes more tears to pour down the side of my cheeks.

“What can I do to convince you? Besides persuading you to at least have a memorable evening, and a good start to a new year?”

I grit my teeth together unsure. I search the crowd of people mingling with one another or dancing to the music. For once in my life, I wish to feel happy, to smile like the women on the dance floor. Or the couples sharing drinks. I move my head to meet Tristan’s intense gaze.

"Just one dance."