Page 264 of Enthrall Shadows
“Henry.”
“What?”
“He knew the only way for you to be together in public was for him to face the press head on.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He did it his way, controlled the narrative. He hid you from the red carpet so you would be protected until after his speech. He threw down the gauntlet to the press.”
“His speech?”
Cameron reached into his pocket, withdrew a piece of paper and unfolded it
“Want me to read it?”
Did I really want to hear how badly I messed up?
“It’s long and boring.” Cameron smirked. “Just like Henry, not surprisingly.”
“Read it.”
Cameron pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket and put them on, converting to his professorial persona. Then he stood and raised the paper as though reading it the way his brother would before a podium.
“I’m going to share something deeply personal. At the last Cole event, I had an episode of PTSD. Something as simple as fireworks set it off.
An experience I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.
I have found that it is the darkest secrets that cast the longest shadows.
In case my enemies are gleeful at hearing my admission, I’ve been working hard on this condition. I’m glad to say, I am making progress.”
“Honestly.” Cameron shook his head as though unsure whether to continue. “The person who wrote this should be reading it.”
“Please, go on,” I said. “I want to hear it.”
Needed to hear it.
“What if the man who wrote it read it to you?” Cameron asked gently.
“He won’t want to see me!” I had sabotaged a perfectly wonderful friendship. The best relationship I’d ever had.
My beloved Henry.
That contract had sealed him off from me.
Turning my head, I saw him and blinked, trying to clear my vision.
Henry was standing in the doorway—here, at de Sade’s home.
He stepped into the room as though I’d willed him out of the ether, looking sophisticated even in sportswear and sneakers.
My wonderful Henry.
His expression was surprisingly serene.
I swiped at a tear.
Henry’s face lit up with compassion. “Wait ‘til you’ve heard the entire speech,” he said with a wink. “It’s a doozey.”
