Page 18 of Never Tell Secrets
“I appreciate that,” I said, my voice calm as I could make it.
He gestured to the doors. “Are you ready?”
No.
“Yes.” I put my shoulders back, tilted my chin, and slipped my mask into place. My body hummed with nervous energy but my mind was a steel trap, designed to keep Alfie out and my sanity intact. I took a breath and stepped through the doors.
Six
Iwas wrong.
I wasn’t ready.
My whole system lit up as soon as I laid eyes on him. My lungs froze. I couldn’t make them work. He stood from his chair at the other end of an eight-seat dining table–the only thing in the room besides the chandelier overhead. His eyes…oh fuck, his eyes. They poured into me, gorging themselves on my mouth, my hair, my calves, the rapid rise and fall of my breasts, the thick sheen of tears that filled my eyes.
“Lo.” His voice poured through me, a syrup so thick I could taste my need for him on my tongue. A strange, tinny sound met my ears and I followed it, recognising it. The familiar chords were imprinted deep on my soul and I would know them anywhere. I looked around the room, following the sound, tracing it to a pair of headphones belonging to a dark-suited man standing with his back to the wall, wearing Elliot’s trademark stoic expression. I swept the room and counted four men, two on one side, two on the other, each of them looking at nothing whilst Vivaldi blared into their ear drums.
“They’re a part of my security team.” Alfie spoke and I flicked my gaze back to him, forcing my mask into place despite myheart feeling like it was about to beat out of my chest. “They’ve been instructed to prevent me from touching or approaching you in any way.”
I stared at him, barely stifling a laugh. Two years and he was still crazy.
“If you can’t trust yourself to stay in control then maybe I shouldn’t be here.” I was surprised at the strength in my voice.
“I trust myself but I know that you don’t trust me. Would you like me to dismiss them?” I paused at his question, or rather, at the notion that he was giving me a choice. I’d come here prepared for battle and this had caught me off guard.
“No. They should stay.”
He gave me a curt nod then said nothing, only watched me, waiting for me to make my next move. Those steel greys pierced me in a way that made me ache.
Move your feet, Lola. Move your fucking feet.
After a moment, they cooperated and I took a seat opposite Alfie, with three chairs’ length of a table between us. I wondered why the long table. Was the distance for my benefit or his? Whatever the reason, I was grateful for it. A glass of wine and a glass of water sat in front of me. I chose the water, needing to be in full possession of my faculties.
He sat too, his eyes still fixed on me. “You’re thinner than last I saw you.”
I stifled a shiver as his voice smoothed over me like butter. I’d missed it. I steeled my bending spine and met his gaze head on. “Blueberry muffins are expensive in London.”
He stifled a smile, struggling with it as if those muscles were rusted. We paused again, gazing at each other. I could feel him drinking me in, the way he used to. Assessing and dissecting every part of me. But he wasn’t the only one who could do that now. At a glance, he was perfect, but my eyes knew him well and I saw the truth. The faint circles under his eyes, the lines thathadn’t been there before. The tick in his jaw. His mask wasn’t quite as secure as it used to be.
“This is your show, Lola.”
“This was never my show, Alfie.” I expected some kind of retort but it didn’t come. Instead, Alfie paused, mulling over my words.
“Things change. People change too.” His voice broke a little and he took a long sip of water. I studied him–Riley had been right. Alfie was not okay. The cracks were showing now, but it wasn’t my problem. I couldn’t let it be. Not again. I was not responsible for fixing Alfie Tell. “Are you hungry?”
“You already know the answer to that,” I said, making sure to keep my tone even. He gave me a wry smile.
“You’re too nervous to eat. You’ll snack when you get home, leftover pizza maybe, or cereal.”
“Yep. Still creepy,” I muttered, not missing the lift at the corner of his mouth. The faint notes of Vivaldi teased our silence, sitting on the periphery of our growing tension. I should be unnerved at four strange men being witness to this, but in truth, Alfie was all I could see. I hated it.
“Why did you decide to come?”
“You know the answer to that too,” I said, my mask not budging an inch.
“Closure.”Closure.I didn’t know what that meant. What kind of closure could he give–the man that had tried to force a pregnancy on me?
“Yes, for you. I don’t want you hurting, Alfie.”
