Sometimes, Balfour could swear he felt a flicker of affection from Ivy, a softness in her eyes that suggested she might still harbor feelings for him. So why on Earth wouldn't she reconsider the tangled mess they called a relationship?
In a fit of exasperation, Ivy's voice broke through her tears, "How can you be so blind to respect, Balfour? Why would I want to be with someone who doesn't get that basic concept? Do you even know what respect means, or is it just a word you skim over in your fancy business books? Because you're the great and mighty Mr. Howard, you think you can just stomp all over my dignity?"
As she shut her eyes, tears rolled down her cheeks, her shoulders trembling with each stifled sob.
Balfour paused, his hand halfway to her face, wanting to wipe away her tears, but she reflexively pulled back.
"Enough, Balfour. Stop mocking me... stop lying to me..."
Her voice was barely a whisper, drained of all its usual vigor.
"Lie? When have I ever lied to you, Ivy? You've got to give me more than this—I have no clue what you're on about!"
Balfour withdrew his hand, his expression darkening as he towered over Ivy, who was weeping.
He didn't understand how his plea for her to reconsider their feelings had twisted into an accusation of disrespect.
Ivy let out a bitter laugh. "You still don't get it."
Balfour's frown deepened. "No, I don't get it! How can I if you won't spell it out for me?"
Why did she have to talk in riddles? If only she'd laid out all her thoughts, how could he possibly misunderstand?
All this time wasted, and here he was, being accused of disrespect.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Kiss that Sparked it All