Page 90 of Every Silent Lie

“Your father,” I say, speaking my conclusion, leaning back in my chair as Dec fingers the stem of his glass, so obviously uncomfortable. “Tell me why you’re indifferent about Christmas.”

“It was always a bit of a farce. Dad disappearing, Mum pretending she hadn’t noticed.”

Ohhhh. “Your mum knew?”

“She knew. I think she would have left, but then she fell ill. The treatment she needed was insanely expensive, not that it mattered in the end. She died when I was thirteen, and I was shipped off to boarding school while Dad cracked on with his bit of stuff like my mother never existed. Had the Christmases that I never had with his new kids. I stopped going home in the holidays, and Dad didn’t seem too bothered by that.”

“And your sister?”

“She was traveling the world.”

I sink into my chair, disturbed, and feeling horrible guilt. Especially when Dec peeks at me and gives a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s so much resentment in his gaze. So much anger. It’s what drives him. The anger for his father. It’s why he’s so successful, almost a fuck you to his dad. “How successful have you been at ruining him in business?” I ask.

“Enormously.”

“And does that make you feel better?”

He shifts in his chair, his discomfort getting worse . . . as is my guilt. He’s just given me a pass to spill, and here I am grilling him. And yet I sense he wants to share. As do I, except unlike Dec, I’m struggling to figure out where I’d start, and I know the words won’t come as easily. “Well, it worked better than therapy,” he says flatly, raising his glass. “And I have April who makes sure Christmas remains a thing, even if it’s hard work.”

I sigh, standing, and round the table, crouching next to him. I smile when he frowns down at me. “Let’s not do this now,” I say, mimicking his words.

He laughs lightly. “We just did, Camryn.”

“Humour me.”

“Okay.”

I lean up and kiss him gently. “Let’s eat and go home.” It’s my way of telling him I’m ready to share too. Because . . .

Shit.

Because I love him. I love him deeply, and to love someone, you have to expose the ugliest parts of yourself. You have to be sure the person you hope they can love back is the real you. This darkness isn’t the real me, and yet there’s still a niggling fear that I’ll never cleanse myself of it, even with Dec in my life. But I’ll never know unless I take that leap. He saw something me I didn’t see in myself. Hope. Softness. And for that, I love him more.

Understanding is powerful in his gaze. “Let’s order.”

I nod and rise to full height, but my backside doesn’t make it to the seat, my body freezing halfway when I see someone enter the restaurant.

All the blood drains from my head and runs cold through my body.

“Camryn?”

I drop to the seat, numb, dizzy, short of breath, and reach for my water, my mouth suddenly parched, but my shaking hand fails me. I knock the glass over, sending water spilling across the table.

“Camryn, what the fuck?” Dec flies up from his seat to avoid the waterfall landing in his lap, and the table is suddenly surrounded by waiters rushing to help, flapping around us, causing a scene.

I can’t move, can’t breathe, but I can see, and all the commotion around us means he’s just spotted me too. His face falls as I cast my eyes to the woman with him. She’s smiling. Oblivious.

Happy.

“Camryn?” Dec’s voice is close to my ear, and I turn my eyes onto him. He withdraws, shocked as he scans my blank face. “Baby, what’s going on?”

I need to leave! Get me away!

I shoot up from my chair, clumsy and chaotic, knocking things over as I do. “Camryn?” Endless waiters block my escape, forcing me to push my way through them. “Camryn!”

I can’t feel my legs as I walk, my heart pumping wildly, my throat thick with anger and angst. He sees me heading for the doors and moves to the side, pulling her with him, avoiding me. She looks up at him in question.

“Camryn,” Dec says, his fingers wrapping around my wrist and tugging me to a stop.