Page 27 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
“I have a wife and three kids, Phoebe,” he smiles, opening his office door for me.
I click my tongue. “Shame.”
He laughs again, waves me off.
When I get into the lift, my phone rings.
It’s George.
“Hello.”
“Phoebs, you busy right now?”
“Not really, why?” I frown.
“Do you…” he pauses and already I’m on edge. “Fancy seeing Arthur, like, tonight seeing him?”
“Uh—”
“Brilliant,” he cuts in. “Because I am hosting a coming home party for him at House tonight.”
“George—”
“Listen,” he lowers his voice. “He’s changed, Phoebs. Like, really changed.”
I walk out of the lift, stand in the foyer of the building. “Is throwing a party for an ex-addict really a bright idea?”
He sighs, hisses. “Yeah, I know, I know but he really ain’t the man you think he is anymore. Believe me.”
“I don’t know—”
“Just come,” he says. “You don’t have to stay for long.”
I swallow, feel that gaping hole in my stomach clench at the thought of seeing him. I knew it was going to happen, obviously. Us being in the same city, having the same group of friends and not bumping into one another is impossible. And I think the longer I put it off, the worse it’ll be. It’s like slowly ripping off a wax strip, it just doesn’t work—you have to close your eyes, take a deep breath and just rip it straight off.
“Fine,” I relent. “Okay, I’ll come.”
Chapter Seven
Lady Phoebe
“You do know that I will talk to him, don’t you?”
Digby drapes his arms around my chest, staring at our reflections in the mirror. “I just don’t see what good that would do.”
I go to frown but then I realise he can see me so I straighten my features out. “You can’t be serious.”
He sighs, rests his cheek on my head. “The past is the past.”
“What I have with Arthur isn’t the past.”
It’s the present and the future—even if we aren’t together but Digby doesn’t understand that, he never will, because he’s never loved anyone the same way Arthur and I have loved one another. And I hope that maybe one day he will so he can look back at this fleeting relationship with a small nod and a knowing smile.
He walks away from me, sits on the edge of his bed.
“I’m not staying long, though. I have an essay to write.”
I nod with a smile, slightly relieved.
