Page 61 of Hearts Colliding
The door remained closed. Ryan flew down the short flight of steps and, shielding his eyes, peered into the drawing room. The curtains had been pulled, but not completely, leaving a small gap for him to see inside. Open packing crates littered the room, and Alex, pale and expressionless, was filling them up.
Oh no. No, no,no. Ryan banged on the window with the flat of his hand as panic grabbed hold of him.
"Alex, open the door. Open the fucking doornow.”
Alex stopped and looked up, their gazes catching and locking. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open before he snapped back into stony neutrality.
"Open the door, I have to talk to you.” The glass vibrated under the slam of Ryan’s palms.
Alex strode from the drawing room, and a moment later he stood in the open doorway, guarding the way in.
Ryan's chest clenched at the silentkeep awaysignals. Henry darted past Alex, a tiny bundle of barks and tail wags as he jumped up at Ryan.
"Henry, no. Get back." Alex reached to pull Henry away, but he was too late as Ryan scooped the dog up into his arms. At least somebody was pleased to see him.
“Any reporters hiding in the bushes, Ryan? Any members of your committee lurking with burning torches and pitchforks?”
"I had nothing to do with what happened, but you're determined not to believe me.”
Alex said nothing, his face devoid of expression, his eyes cold and flat. A flashback to the first time they’d met smashed its fist into Ryan’s heart. If only they could turn the clock back and start again... But it was too late forif only.
"Can I come in? Please?”
"What's the point?”
"There's every point. And if you don't let me in, I'll steal Henry." Ryan hugged Henry closer, who nuzzled into his chest.
"For Christ's sake, Ryan. I’ve not got time for this.”
“Then make time.”
Alex swore under his breath and he turned back into the house. He didn’t invite Ryan in, but nor had he closed the door in his face or told him to go. That had to mean something, but Ryan didn’t know what, as he followed Alex through.
“I can give you a few minutes, but that’s all,” Alex said over his shoulder as he turned into the drawing room.
Following, Ryan stopped and stared around at the devastated room, his heart sinking as he set Henry down.
The bookcase was bare of the few books it had held, and all the framed photos were piled up next to an open box, waiting to be packed away. The bedding, which had sat in a neat stack on a chair in the corner, had fallen into a heap on the floor. Crockery, cutlery, and cooking equipment — not that Alex, king of the microwave dinner, had much — poked out of a small box.
"You're leaving?”
"Ten out of ten for observation. I want to get this finished so I can leave today.”
Ryan’s mouth turned to dust. “Today? But you—you can’t.”
Alex angry and hurt, cold and distant, he'd been prepared for all of that, he’d steeled himself to handle it, or as much as he could. But this? Alex already packing up to go? If he'd backed off, if he'd stayed away to let things settle.... He'd have found nothing other than an old, empty house.
“Aren’t you staying until the application’s been decided?”
"Whether I'm here or not, it makes no difference. My chief architect will attend the planning meeting, and he’ll notify me of the decision. Whatever the outcome, I'm stepping back and handing it over to my team to deal with. It’s what I should have done from the beginning because it was a mistake to come back here.”
"No, it wasn't." Ryan closed the space between them. "Your coming here was the best thing that ever happened to me. To us. The mistake would be to leave.” Ryan reached for him, to touch, to hold, to break through Alex’s icy façade.
Alex stepped back, shaking his head, his arms out to ward Ryan off.
"I don’t know why I came back. Maybe to lay ghosts, I'm not really sure. But one thing I am clear about, and always have been, is that this house and village play no part in my future. It’s already history as far as I’m concerned.”
“What about us, are we history?”
