At First Hate by K.A. Linde

Interlude

When I was a child, I’d loved to play tea party with Gran. Not the British stuff that would have made me posh, but good, cold, sweet tea made with buckets of sugar. I’d pour it into our plastic cups and hold a pinkie out and beam, speaking in some fake British accent that was definitely more Scarlett O’Hara than Queen Elizabeth.

Then one day, I decided I was too old for the plastic tea set. Gran wasn’t around, but I wanted to play. And I wanted to use her porcelain set. The one she’d gotten as a wedding gift. Passed down from one generation to the next. It had a blue floral design and was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. Also one of the few things I’d been explicitly told not to touch. Though I was sure they would one day be mine.

Since I knew how important it was, I took out the tea set with care, cradling it against my chest like it was life or death. At the time, it felt like it. Then, I poured myself the sweet tea, getting back into the fun of the game. I laughed and played as if I were allowed to use something this important every day.

I’d never know exactly what it was that shook me so much. Maddox startled me, but I’d heard his clomping steps. I should have known he was coming. But one minute, I was holding the teacup, and the next, the glass slipped out of my hand. I wasn’t fast enough by any stretch of the imagination to keep it from falling. The cup crashed to the floor, spilling tea everywhere and leaving broken china in tiny pieces.

When Gran found me, she was furious. But no one was as hard on me as myself. No one ever would be again. I’d taken something delicate and fragile and important and watched it be destroyed by my own carelessness.

So, when Derek and I began a relationship, I knew it was a china set just like the one Gran had. Precious and irreplaceable. I held it with care. I kept it safe. And I waited for the moment when it would shatter.