Page 137 of Never Tell Secrets

“Alfie?” I stared up at him, his hands gripping my wrists so tight it hurt. His teeth were gritted, his eyes squeezed shut tight. “What is it?”

He peered down at me, eyes lost in the darkness. “I can’t,” he choked on the words, as if he didn’t really mean them. “I can’t, Lo. I’m sorry.”

He pulled away, standing in the middle of the room like a lost child. I sat up, confused, the shame of rejection burning on my skin. His chest heaved, reminding me of the night I’d found him burning himself in the shower. Something was wrong, very very wrong.

He began to pace, his fists clenching as if lava was boiling up inside him.

I watched him, fear stricken. A scream escaped as he lashed out, fist colliding with one of those black squares. It cracked like a mirror, the glass slicing his skin.

“Alfie!” I flew off the bed running to him but he backed up.

“Don’t!” His voice cracked and it was then I saw the tears, thick hot tears running down his face. He wiped them away with one hand, his other dripping blood on the floor.

“What is going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”

He closed his eyes, the only sound was the faint drip of his blood staining the floor. When he looked at me again, I found pain there, pain and resignation. I’d seen that look before. On the night we split up, when he’d decided to let me go.

“I have to show you something.”

My stomach turned over, I wrapped my arms around my body, suddenly very aware that I was almost naked. He pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped the screen. My blood turned to ice as the black squares lit up around us.

Forty-Three

Alfie.

‘Promise?’

Her words played over and over. Taunting me. She’d asked me to promise I wasn’t going to hurt her and like a fool I’d done it. She had no idea what I was hiding. Now I was going to have to break that promise, or keep my secret forever.

Here I was, back at the finish line and once again I didn’t deserve her.

My phone rested on my desk next to my laptop, the screen showing me her sweet face, streetlights dappling the night shadows as they passed over her.

Right now I had her muted, but earlier I’d listened as she’d talked to Elliot, making him laugh as she told him about Ryan’s latest novel installment. Now she was quiet, contemplative. I wondered what was in my girl's mind. Her work? Her best friend? Me?

“Alfie?”

I blinked out of my stupor, returning my attention to Angie, her dark eyes watching me from my laptop screen.

“Yes,” I waved a hand at her, “continue.”

“This would be a lot easier if we were in the same room,” she muttered, her fingers skipping over her Ipad. I didn’t bother to respond, I didn’t need to explain to her why I would be spending more time here. “You know, I can still come to you,” she said as if the thought hadn’t occurred to me and immediately been dismissed.

“Restricted access, Angie, you know that.”

“To you or your house?”

“Both,” I snapped. Angie was pushing too hard.

Most days, I didn’t know how to quantify what she was to me. She wasn’t just my assistant, she could run rings around most of my executives. She wasn’t my girlfriend but she’d been my plus one to more events than I could count. She wasn’t my friend but she was bound to me anyway. She was this grey area that I had never figured out what to do with but now, ever since I’d finally told Lo the whole of my history, Angie felt like a weight I wanted to be rid of.

As if she could feel me moving on from the limbo we’d shared for twelve years, she clung on harder, fighting for my attention and becoming snippish when she didn’t get it, like a neglected wife. It needed to stop, but now wasn’t the time to deal with it.

With a clenched jaw she returned her attention to her Ipad. The Dubai build was going to be one of my most impressive projects to date…and I didn’t care. As Angie resumed her run through of our upcoming Dubai trip, I returned my attention to my phone.

My Lo.

She looked tired. I was tempted to ask Ada to make dinner for her but I held back. Lola needed to make her own decisions, even the small ones.