Page 23 of Never Tell Secrets
“That isn’t as reassuring as you think. We both know that your words did more damage than your hands ever could.” My tone was cold and dripping with so much pain it poisoned my tongue.
“What do you know about the damage my hands can do?” His words sent an ice cold chill up my spine. Instant regret shone in his eyes. He took a step away, distancing himself. “Perhaps we should have had this conversation over the phone. Perhaps I haven’t changed as much as I thought.”
“Perhaps you need to get over yourself. This mysterious broody thing is so two years ago.”
A short laugh burst from him, cracked, pained, like beating the dust out of an old cushion. “I’ve missed you, Lo.” He gazeddown at me, the flashing excitement gone, replaced with warm familiarity. I said nothing. “It’s alright, I know you can’t say it back. I know that’s my fault.” He took a step, bringing himself a breath away from me.
His eyes roamed over me, soaking in every minute detail of my face and I couldn’t help but return the favour, no matter how much pain it caused me. I’d missed the sharp cheekbones, his soft mouth, the jaw that could cut glass, the way he tipped his head as he studied me, the way his brows knit as he gnawed on a problem. There was so much anger buried deep, so much fear and distrust, but two things I knew:
One. He had kept his word to me. Two years and four months and he hadn’t once tried to contact me. And two. This man standing in front of me was not the same man I’d once known. This man was trying painfully hard to do this differently. He had messed up in places, but he was trying, and for that, my heart was breaking because I knew I couldn’t make it worth his while. I knew his efforts were wasted.
“Alfie…”
“Go.” He gave me that sad smile and stepped away from me, leaving me cold. “It’s alright, O’Connell. I understand. I’d be lying if I said I believed tonight would or could go any other way. Elliot is available to drive you home.”
“I’ll take the tube.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Yeah, this definitely wasn’t the same man.
“Goodnight, Lo.”
Was I really about to walk away from him again? Could I do this? I’d come here to give him closure and at that I’d done my best. I looked at the space between us at everything that filled that chasm. The bridge connecting us was gone and for my part, I had no materials left to rebuild it. I gave him as warm a smile as I could.
“Goodnight, Alfie.” With that, I turned and walked away. My skin burning, a thousand invisible hooks trying to draw me back to him. But I didn’t stop.
Elliot was waiting for me outside the doors. He was silent as he escorted me out and said nothing when I left him without a word and headed for the tube station. I didn’t cry, I didn’t crumble. Despite the way I split down the middle, half of me screaming at me to go back.
Alfie…My Alfie…but he wasn’t mine. Not anymore.
The Alfie shaped shrapnel throbbed, but still I didn’t falter. I was stronger now. Chin up, shoulders back. I was Lola O’Connell and I was still a fucking showgirl.
Eight
This was it.
A shiver of excitement ran through me and I wrapped my arms around myself. I could hear distant chattering, other designers as excited as I was as they saw their plots for the first time. Seasoned designers, award-winning designers, andIwas one of them.
But I wasn’t alight with easy laughter as they were. I was overwhelmed, feeling like I might choke on the lump in my throat. I was standing in the empty space that was going to hold my structure for the show. It wasn’t much, far smaller than the other plots, but I didn’t mind. I was a seed and the other designers were fully grown trees, it made sense that my plot was smaller.
For so many years I had wanted this but now I was here, could I really pull this off? I didn’t feel ready. I clasped my necklace, rubbing my thumb over the glass as I had so many times. In my mind I could imagine her gentle hand guiding me as she’d taught me to sketch flowers when I was little. That’s all this was. Just sketching flowers like I had a million times.
I sat down in the middle of the space and pulled out my sketch book. It was time for me to start growing my roots. Ibegan with a brainstorm and after an hour I had a sketch book that looked like it belonged to an inpatient at a psychiatric facility.
“Hello, trouble.”
I started at the familiar Irish brogue. “Riley! What are you doing here?” I asked as he took a seat next to me, handing me one of the two coffees he had brought with him.
“I wanted to check in. I tried calling you but your phone was off, so I called your office and they told me you were here.” He gave me an affable smile that had me feeling suspicious.
“You just wanted to check in, huh? How’s my sister?”
“Prickly. Beautiful, and an amazing mother, but yeah, prickly.” He rubbed a hand over his chin where stubble was starting to grow. “She gave me some of Ryan’s baby pictures, though.”
“That’s good.” I was glad she was letting him in, even if it was at a snail's pace. Riley frowned at his coffee cup. Something was eating him. “So when you said you wanted to check in, what you actually meant was…?” I let my question trail off as Riley took a deep breath.
“I want you to tell me everything about my son.”
I'd hoped he wasn’t going to ask me that.
“Riley, I can’t. I’m sorry. This is all between you and my sister, I can’t step over her boundaries like that.” My heart sank at the crushed expression on his face. Oh hell… “He likes stories. Reading them and writing them. He’s also super competitive and has a habit of burying your stuff in the garden. We’re hoping he’ll grow out of it soon,” I said quickly. Riley chuckled to himself. “What’s funny?”
