Page 72 of My Lord
Gabriella and I walked Mother into her apartment. She offered us more wine, but I had an early start and was driving anyway, therefore we declined.
“Another time, Henry,” Gabriella said, yet again I was thrilled to hear her call my mother by the shortened version of her name, and one only reserved for family, normally.
“I love your mom,” Gabriella said on the journey home.
“I can see. And I believe she feels the same,” I replied, smiling.
“You can’t say the word even when it isn’t related to us, can you?” she asked, quietly.
“Huh?” I tried to keep my concentration on the road but was genuinely baffled.
“You can’t just say, my motherlovesyou, too, can you?”
I glanced over at her. “You’ve lost me. I’m sorry.”
“I text you that I love you and you reply withlikewise.I tell you that I love you and you show me that you do but you don’t use the words. I tell you that I love your mom, and you say that she feels the same. Why, Alex?” she asked, gently. She placed her hand on my thigh.
“Are you sure that you’re not overthinking this? Do I need to say the word?” I was deflecting, I knew I was, and I was aware I was also pushing a boundary that might cause our first row.
“No. It would be nice one time, though,” she replied, removing her hand and settling back in her seat. She didn’t speak for the rest of the journey.
That night, although we shared a bed, we might as well not have. We slept with our backs to each other, facing opposite ends of the room. In fact, Gabriella wasasleepbefore I even left the bathroom. I’d climbed into bed and spooned into her, but she’d shuffled, grumbling that she was too hot.
The following morning, although smiling andpolite,she was distant.
“Have I offended you?” I asked on the journey into work.
She turned on her seat to face me. “Have you considered counselling?” she asked. I glanced at the driver who glanced back at me in the rear-view mirror.
“Sorry? Have I…No. Whatever would I want counselling for?” I knew my manner was brusque, and I’d probably reverted to a very formal Lord Alexander kind of voice.
“Might help you remove that stick from up your ass,” she mumbled clearly enough for both the driver and me to hear.
My mouth fell open. She turned to look out the window and I could see her smirk in the reflection of the glass. She didn’t speak for the rest of the journey, neither did I.
“Fucking infuriating,” I mumbled as I pulled my chair away from my desk.
“Who?” Mackenzie asked as he walked into my office.
“Your best friend. Honestly, she makes me behave like a bloody teenager,” I said, slamming papers down.
“Yep, although she says the same about you.”
“What did she say?” I demanded.
“Nothing today, I haven’t seen her yet. Can I sit or are you going to throw the contents of your desk all over the floor?”
I stopped my slamming and aggressive piling of already piled papers and slumped into my chair. I waved my hand at the chair opposite.
Carolyn stood at my doorway. “Coffee?” she said.
Both Mackenzie and I answered simultaneously.
“Yes,” I said.
“Definitely,” he replied. “Wanna talk?”
I scowled. “No. Yes. I don’t know. Not here. Now, I need to take my mind elsewhere. This consolidation. It’s doable for sure, but I think you’ve got one or two businesses that might need to be cut loose now. There’s no reason not to take the money and run.” I then gave a list of the companies I thought would be better off sold.
