Page 2 of Never Tell Secrets

I was there when she turned him down, when she pushed him away.‘I’m not ready.’I’d watched, stomach churning, teeth gritting, as he kissed her neck, his hand wandering to her breast, her eyes glazed over into nothingness. I understood why but I took no pride in it.

I’d given her up and for what? So she could continue in her despair over me? What a pointless waste of energy. I wanted to reach through the screen and shake her. I wanted to peel open her mind and strip it of any memory of me. I wanted her to be free of me. To laugh and love without a thought of me.

I’d thought that letting her go, that letting her think the very worst, would have been enough to get me out of her system but it hadn’t worked. I had broken her and the more I watched her, the more I understood that only I could mend that damage.

I watched her, day after day, night after night, soldiering on through her heartbreak in her own stubborn way. Waiting, just waiting for the day when my name wasn’t the first word on her lips when she woke. I watched and I waited but I had no plan. I held myself in limbo. How could I repair this damage? Apologise? Explain? Give her closure? And then what? That would only sink her further into my quicksand, not free her from it.

‘Did it ever occur to you, Alfie, that one day, she might come back to you wanting answers? What then?’Elliot. A wise man who was over my bullshit. I hadn’t answered his question, not aloud anyway, but inside it had percolated. What if, by some chance, I saw her again? What would I do? How could I fix it? My immediate options were obvious–manipulation andcoercion. Easy. Tried and true methods. Methods that had landed us in the ghost town limbo we had occupied for more than two years.

‘The only promise I can make is that I will endeavour to do better.’

It was a promise I intended to keep. Hence why I forced myself out of bed an hour early twice a week, so I could go and learn how to be a good man. Just in case she ever came back to me.

I tapped my phone, sending the live feed to the flatscreen on the wall so I could watch as I got ready.

Elliot had outdone himself.

Once my constant companion, rarely did he travel with me now. Instead I kept him in London. There was no one I trusted with my Lo’s safety more than him, not even me.

His team captured every minute of her life. I could log in at any time. I could watch her eat breakfast or get on the tube. I could watch her shop or cook or work.

For once our time zones were close and there in London, her day was just starting the same as mine. As I brushed my teeth, I watched her brush her hair, the hair that she’d hacked off four days after she’d left me. Her open rebellion against my order that she never cut it. I’d watched over the last two years and four months as it had grown to her shoulder blades and I breathed easier with every inch.

I watched as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She was already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. That was the only thing they didn’t film. There were no cameras in the bathroom and the ones in her bedroom were operated only by women and switched off during private moments. No skin, was the rule. They weren’t allowed to see it, no matter how desperate I was for it. To see the swell of her breasts, the small of her back…I wouldn’t do that to her. Even though she would never know, I wouldn’t do it.

She ran a hand over her ponytail, the strands moving through those fingertips that had stroked and soothed me a thousand times.

“Lo,” I breathed. She frowned at herself in the mirror and then shrugged, scooped up her bags, and left her bedroom. The view changed and I watched her make coffee and laugh with Keira, who was slumped over the kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee and a hangover.

As I dressed, I watched on the flat screen as she headed out her front door. It wasn’t lost on me how low this was. I wish I could say it was for her benefit, her protection. It was true, it had started out that way. London could be a dangerous place and I wanted her to be safe, but now all I was doing was feeding my addiction. I was a pathetic man but only a few people really knew how pathetic. Me. Elliot. And Lola O’Connell.

In her part of the world, she stepped out into a fast-approaching autumn and headed for Clapham North tube station as she did most mornings. I was watching her walk, filling out those jeans like a fucking goddess, when a knock sounded at my door. I called them to enter as I twisted my tie into a sharp windsor knot.

Once, Angie would have sauntered over, no need to stand on ceremony. Not anymore, though. Now, she hovered by the door, uncertainty blatant in her voice.

“Your eight o’clock is ready.”

I gave a short nod, not quite ready to look away from my Lo walking down the street. I envied the passersby that got to be so close.

“Alfie, please. This isn’t healthy.”

I didn’t look at her, couldn’t bear to see the pain on her face. Angie had suffered enough, and I was a bastard for adding to it. I heard her soft sigh and the click of the door as she left. On the screen, I watched as Lo hopped onto the tube. The connectionbecame fuzzy and I sighed. I had to sign off sometime. I stood, slipping into my jacket and cutting the live feed.

I walked the darkened halls of my Berlin penthouse to the lounge. Of course, she was there already. Wise lines fine around her eyes, her dark skin warm in the low light that was supposed to put me at ease. Notepad in her lap, ready to write down every thought and feeling I forced through my gritted teeth. I didn’t know if it was working and maybe it never would, but I wanted to be prepared. Just in case.

“Alfie, good to see you.” She stood, smiling, and extended a hand.Alfie.I hated that she called me by my first name but she insisted on it and in this room, for one hour twice a week, I had to do what the good doctor said. I was not her favourite patient, but she was well compensated for putting up with me, just like everyone else.

I sat and immediately began tapping my foot on the dark wood floor. The supposedly soothing lavender candle she had lit only irritated me. Being here always made me irritable, but Lolawas enough to keep me in my seat. One day, I might get the chance to make things right, and if that day ever came I wanted to be ready for it. Ready to be that good man she deserved, ready to tell her my secrets, ready to love her, to feel happy without guilt. To be normal. Functional. Hell, even mundane.

As wrong as it was, watching her all of this time had taught me that it wasn’t over when she walked away. Not for me anyway. It isn't over now. It never would be.

“So, shall we pick up where we left off last time?” Ah, last time…

‘Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps your obsession with pleasuring women could be a subconscious effort to undo the damage your brother did to them? That this might also explain your obsessive guilt over what you did to Lola?’

Of course it had occurred to me. I gave her a curt nod.

“Good. Let's dig in.” A thin sweat crept up the back of my neck. I hated this, hated airing these ghosts, but I would do it anyway. For Lola.Dig infor Lola.