Page 39 of Zenith
“What did she say?” I asked, desperate to know what was happening.
Edward placed the phone on the desk and leaned against the mahogany with a shake of his head. “She is threatening to release all information about my past and Bertha’s existence to the media. Just as you said she would.”
I wanted to comfort him, to place my arms out his shoulders and hold him tightly, but I knew him well enough to understand it would be unwelcome. At that moment, he was stone once more.
“Does she have proof? She must! What does she want in return for her silence?” I asked, my questions running into one another in my haste to get them out. “Surely—”
“Nothing,” he interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose and screwing his eyes shut. “She wants nothing.”
“Then…” I trailed off, knowing whatever I had to say was empty.
“Then I bear the consequences of my actions,” he said. “I’ve dug my own hole all these years, Jane, and now I must be buried in it.”
“But—”
“Jane.”
His tone was abrupt and forceful, and I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere by pushing him further. I couldn’t believe he was going to let her walk all over him!
I watched as he turned to the crystal decanter, which sat on the side table, and poured himself a dram of whiskey, his shoulders tense. I hadn’t realized how tired he looked until now. His mask had slipped entirely, and it was the true man I now saw before me. Life had worn him to the bone, and he’d become a master at hiding it.
If he would not fight, then perhaps I should.
