Page 154 of Never Tell Secrets

After he’d left, I’d dressed quickly and ignored the breakfast tray brought for me. Kal had caught me on my way out, gorgeous in only sweatpants and sweat as he came back from a run.

Alfie had told him about the cameras and I still wasn’t sure why. Kal had presented a calm exterior but he was pissed. I wondered what kind of repercussions this was going to have for Alfie with the rest of the Tellers. They preached respect and consent, what Alfie had done broke all of their rules.

As I walked, I was surprised by how steady I felt. I was angry and there were more tears to come, but I wasn’t getting wasted or cutting my hair off like I had last time. Was I stronger now orwas I just used to getting hurt? Had I just become hardened to it?

Or maybe the foundation that Alfie had spent the last weeks building was strong enough to hold me up now.

My day passed quietly. I worked, I made small talk with Imani and I worked more. Twice I sank to the floor in the bathrooms as my chest felt like it was about to cave in but I managed to keep my shit together.

The grief came in waves, crashing realisations of what he’d done. How awful it really was. Almost as if my brain didn’t dare let me forget and relax, it had to remind me not to get comfortable, not to feel safe. My mind felt like a broken car alarm, sounding off at the lightest touch and all the while my bitterness grew that once again I was hurting because of Alfie.

Would this ever stop? Or would I forever be waiting for him to drop the next bomb in my lap?

The day drew to a close and I sat on the tube going home, exhausted yet wired, numb yet aching. I missed Alfie, missed how I’d felt yesterday morning. Happy and hopeful. I couldn’t help the prevalent itch on my skin, the awareness that I was being invaded, watched.

I played over every moment, everything he’d seen. Every nightmare, every bad hair day. Every date, every dance with another man. Had he watched me at Christmas? Had he sat alone watching me happy? It made me deeply sad and so angry. I’d worked so hard to move on and he had just sunk further into the grey. It made me responsible for him somehow and how dare he make saving him my job?

Walking up the steps to my front door my anxiety started to rise. I’d been dreading this all day but I knew it had to be done. I stepped into the warmth of our flat, greeted by the familiar shh and thwick of Keira’s sewing machine.

“Lo? Put the kettle on, will you?” she called without looking up. A Moulin Rouge-style dress rested on a mannequin and it looked like she was working on a second one. I dropped my bag, preparing for the shit show that was about to come. “Lo?” She looked up.

“I need to tell you something,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. The vase of bleeding hearts Alfie had sent only a few days ago sat in the window, mocking me.

Her smile instantly faded, dark eyes filling with concern. “What’s Alfie done?”

I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want to admit that she’d been right all this time, but I had no choice. I hated what this was about to do to us but more than that I hated what this was about to do to her trust in Damien.

She was silent as I explained what he’d done but her face, expressive as always, told me everything. She was furious, she was as sick as me but more than that she was worried.

“Lo…”

“I’m okay,” I said before she could ask. “It hurts but I’m okay.”

A small crease formed between her brows, like she didn’t believe me. I didn’t blame her. “This isn’t okay. This is very much not okay.” I knew that but I didn’t want the explosion she was about to ignite. “Lola, call the fucking police.”

“Keira…” That wasn’t an option. She jumped out of her seat, outrage lighting up her pretty face.

“You can’t seriously be thinking about forgiving him?”

“Keira, right now I’m just trying to get through this moment and then the next one. Then the next…” I trailed off, tiredness washing over me. “I’m not calling the police and before you ask I’m not suing him either. Apart from the media shitstorm that would land on all of us, including my sister and Ryan, I don’t want to hurt him. It won’t help.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, arms folded.

“Don’t start,” I warned her. “You think I don’t want to explode? I do. But I’m trying to take a breath and be rational. Call it personal growth.”

She paced the room, refocusing her frustration with me and sending that energy somewhere else. “He’s been filming us all this time.”

“Me, yes. Sometimes you too, I guess. Whenever you were with me.” I wrapped my arms around myself. I felt weak, as if I might crumple like a body without bones to hold it up. “I’m so sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

Wasn’t it? I’d brought him into our lives.

“Lo, I hate to pile more shit on top of the shit pile, but we need to get a new roommate.”

I frowned, what was she talking about?

“I don’t know what happened but when I got home tonight, Maia’s door was open and her room was empty. She left that for you on her bed.” She nodded at the kitchen counter and sure enough there was an envelope with my name on it.