32. “Turning Tables” - Adele
“Turning Tables” - Adele
My office provides the exact distraction I need if I’m to have any hope of ever getting through this night. A five-inch stack of mail sits in my inbox. I’m three letters in when Preston sticks his head inside.
My surprise must show, because he offers a wry smile. “I was working late and saw your light. Got a second?”
When I nod, he comes in and shuts the door behind him. I have a sudden flashback to what happened the last time we were alone like this.
“Do you mind leaving that open?” My voice comes out sharper than I intend. “Please,” I add, to show that I’m not upset. At least not at him.
Beatrice? Maybe. Davies? Most certainly. Henry? Don’t even get me started.
Preston halts in front of my desk. When he makes no move to open the door, I raise my brows and give it a significant look.
His nostrils flare, but he cracks it a few centimeters.
Instead of approaching me again, he walks to the window, where there’s nothing to see but his own reflection staring back at him in the dark glass.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.
His laugh is chilling. “I thought so. But maybe I’m just a fool you thought you could take advantage of.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” He thrusts his hands into his pockets.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, ready for this day to be over, then check my phone. There’s still nothing from Henry. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He spins around. “Of course you don’t. Innocent until proven guilty, right?”
“Preston, I swear to god—” I’m not sure how to end that sentence. I swear to god I’m about to collapse from exhaustion? Scream until my lungs are raw? Throw in the towel on saving the monarchy?
His eyes are wild. Was he drinking before coming here? “We had something.” He gestures to the space between us.
“We did?” I’m sure my face looks as skeptical as my voice sounds.
He turns a brighter shade of red. “Are you actually going to deny it?” He shakes his head and turns toward the window again. “Unbelievable.”
“Would you please fill me in on what exactly you’re accusing me of? Because I’m still in the dark over here.”
He keeps his back to me. “You led me on.”
I bolt upright in my chair. A million thoughts fly through my mind right now, none of them good. “I did what?”
“You made me think you wanted more.”
I know it’s not what he means, but I can’t resist. The whole thing is too preposterous. “I do want more.” Preston jerks his head around. “I want more peace for the world, more happiness. I want the income divide to be smaller. I want—”
“More with me,” he growls.
For the first time, a shiver of apprehension slides down my spine. “I do not remember ever giving you that impression.”
He places his hands on his narrow hips. I doubt he realizes how unattractive he becomes when he’s mad. Kind of like Don Knotts, with his lower lip protruding and the vein in his forehead pulsing.
“You kissed me,” he says.
Revulsion fills my mouth at the memory of that kiss, if it can even be called that. It felt more like paralysis, the way a deer stays in the road as headlights approach. “Actually,” I say. “You kissed me.”
“And you kissed me back!”
I definitely didn’t, but I’m too tired to argue the point right now. If there was a way to crawl into bed and sleep for one hundred years, I’d be the first in line. “Look, Preston, I—”
“Don’t try placating me like I’m some child.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
He rears back as if I’ve slapped him.
“I’m a married woman, for god’s sake,” I say. “And I’m not interested in starting an affair with you or anyone else.”
He looks aghast. “I comforted you twice after he hurt you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I know. That was wrong on my part. I should’ve sent you away. I wasn’t thinking clearly either time.”
He approaches me, excitement rolling off him in waves. “But that’s just my point. He messes with your head and leaves you feeling like you’re not enough. How many times has he driven you to tears in the past month alone?”
I press my fingertips to my throbbing temples. “That’s irrelevant.”
“Of course it’s relevant.”
“This isn’t going anywhere, Preston, whether he hurts me or not. I’m sorry if I did anything that made you think otherwise.”
“I care about you,” he says, leaning over my desk. “I can’t stand by and watch him treat you like this over and over.”
I furrow my brow as I look up at him. “Just how do you think Henry is hurting me?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? You always come here when you’re trying to escape.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I mutter. “The only thing I’m escaping is insomnia.”
“Right.” His voice turns cool. “So where is he, then? Back in bed while you figure this out on your own?” He lifts a crystal paperweight and shifts it between his hands.
I let out a deep sigh. “That’s none of your business.”
“You made it my business when you let me hold you.”
I don’t remember any particular holding, but it’s a trivial point. “You were a great friend, and I appreciate you being there for me—”
“He doesn’t deserve you,” he spits out.
My lips part in surprise. “That’s for me to decide.”
“Except you’ll keep running back to the bloody bastard every time because—what? He’s good in bed? He’s charming and attractive? What does he have that I don’t?”
“He’s my husband!” I stand up so fast my chair teeters on its legs.
“So you’re staying with him to avoid scandal.” Preston places the paperweight back onto the desk with a small crash.
“I’m staying with him because I love him.” It comes out through my teeth. “Is that good enough for you?”
“He doesn’t make you happy!” he roars.
The breath whooshes from my lungs, and the room goes quiet. Shaking my head slowly to clear the fog doesn’t help. “Go.” I point to the door. “Get your things and don’t come back.”
“You can’t fire me,” he says, humor and disbelief both vying for top spot in his tone.
I lift my eyes to his. “Really? I just did.”
“You’re going to need me to clean up this entire mess after he’s done wrecking your whole family.”
“This may come as a shock, but you’re not the only one qualified to handle the press.” I sit down and turn back to my correspondence, unwilling to give him another second of my time or mental bandwidth.
“You cannot be serious.”
I pull out another letter and unfold it. “Do I appear to be joking? Did you think I would keep someone on staff who speaks to me the way you just did?” I look up at him. “I am your queen, which you seem to have forgotten.”
“I never forgot.” Preston smirks and walks backward to the door. “Why do you think I wanted you in the first place?”
Once he leaves, I close my eyes and rest my head in my hands.
He thinks Henry doesn’t make me happy? I let my mind wander, thinking back over the past year.
If I haven’t been happy, it wasn’t because of Henry.
I’m the one who lied to him and kept that stupid birth control secret.
If anyone’s to blame for the downfall in our marriage, it’s me.
I finish reading the letter in my hands and slide it back into its envelope. As I’m reaching for another one, the door opens again, and my heart sinks. I’ll have to call night security to escort him out.
“I can’t do this again, Preston,” I say.
There’s no reply.
I look up, but it’s not Preston standing in the doorway.