Page 184 of Never Tell Secrets
“No, you may not.” Under different circumstances perhaps I would have told her but she’d lost the right to that trust.
“Then you’ll allow me to accompany you.”
“Supervise me, you mean? No, I won’t.” I folded my arms, wondering what her problem was before I realised why she was being so suspicious. “You think I’m going to steal something.”
She lifted her chin. “There are many items in that room worth a lot of money.”
I scoffed, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “I know enough about Alfie to sell stories to the papers if I wanted to, I don’t need to steal from him.”
She narrowed her eyes at me before finally relenting. “That’s true, besides he’d probably give you his entire fortune if you asked him.”
With that she headed for the stairs, leaving me to follow her. She led me to the room that held Alfie’s deepest and darkest secrets. She opened the security pad and typed in the code.
“Only Alfie, Elliot and I have access to this room, the door locks automatically when you close it so you’ll be locked in. There’s another pad inside so just type the same code to get out.”
I nodded, I remembered watching Alfie do this the last time I was here. “Thank you.”
Instead of leaving, Ada hovered. “Lola, I just wanted to thank you for extending a little forgiveness to Elliot. This wholebusiness,” she waved a hand as if the ‘business’ in question was a bad smell in the air, “it’s played on his mind for the past two years. I’m glad to see the back of it. For what it’s worth, I’m sorryfor the part I played in it.” Without waiting for me to accept her apology, she straightened her shoulders. “I’ll have your room here prepared in case you’d like to stay the night,” she said and then she left me.
I stepped inside and looked around the room. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for.
I opened the chest containing Alfie’s journals and flipped through until I found one from the year we’d separated. I found the entry detailing our separation and quickly skipped it. I couldn’t bear to read that. I kept skimming and it didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for.
‘Cameras.’
The word first appeared only a month or so after my birthday and was on almost every page after that. I sat there in Alfie’s time capsule room and read…
What am I doing?
As I write this, my Lo’s perfect face smiles at me from my television, my laptop, my phone…only the smile isn’t for me, it’s for Keira and I’ve stolen it and passed it off as my own.
I shouldn’t be doing this, I know it deep down I shouldn’t.
Today, I cancelled all my meetings and stayed here watching her. I’ve tried to stop. My most recent entries here are a testament to that. For nine days I didn’t look at her. I kept away. And now, like an addict I’ve binged her, watching everything she’s done, everything I missed. Every smile, laugh, every joke she cracked, every tear she cried. I’ve soaked it up like a sponge, swelling with every drop of her.
I miss her. I miss her. I miss her.
Angie says that I’m not well and I know that’s true, there’s no point denying it. From the outside I am perfect but inside I rot, a cold, decaying core.
What am I doing?
I need to stop. I need to.
It’s so wrong, using her like this is so wrong.
It’s something Charles would do. How ironic that in order to keep his ghost at bay I’ve had to become him. I’ve tried to stop but those days without her had my ghosts creeping closer and closer until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
It’s their eyes that haunt me the most, always their eyes. My fathers, open and panicked as I watched him die right in front of me. My brother's blank, shark-like stare…I used to burn myself in the shower when they stared at me like that, purge it all away but I’d promised her I would never do that again. She wouldn’t know now if I did but still I’d promised.
So now I sit here, holding onto her image like a candle against my darkness, hoping her flame will catch on my clothes, pass her heat onto me, into me, so my own light can radiate from my chest. I wish I didn’t have to borrow hers but for now, I do.
Maybe Priya can help me find my own because this is wrong. Using her light is wrong.
She smiles at me from screens, open and unaware. Blissfully ignorant of what I’m doing.
One day, I’ll be warm. One day I’ll be whole.
I stared at the tortured words. He’d told me. Right from the beginning he’d told me. If I’d read any of these recent journals, I would have discovered the cameras two months ago and I would have thrown him out of my life for good without question. He’d known that and he’d risked it anyway.
