CHAPTER 27 Jag Visste Inte, Alskling
When Aaron drove away, William immediately reached for my hand, but I didn’t let him grab it. “I’m so pissed at you right now. I just … can’t. God, why did you have to hide that from me?”
William parted his lips to reply, but I lifted my hand to stop him from answering my question. “You know what? I can’t do this right now.”
“Guille.” His voice came out as a plea. “Let me explain.”
“Not right now.” I didn’t want to talk about this in the car with Aaron present. Besides, I had questions for him too. “Aaron, did you know about Agent Hawthorne?”
Aaron’s delayed response told me everything I needed to know.
He knew.
“I did,” he admitted. Of course, he did. Who else could have informed my father about it if not Aaron? “But I wasn’t briefed about him. I … caught him. Following us.” Aaron cleared his throat. “But it wasn’t until a week or so ago that I noticed him. At first, I thought he was faculty, but I’d never seen his face at Parsons. So when I spotted him outside your favorite coffee shop three days in a row, I knew his presence wasn’t a coincidence.”
“And why the hell didn’t you tell me about him?” I yelled. I’d never talked to Aaron this way before, but I felt betrayed. And that was the worst feeling ever.
“After we had our guns pointed at each other’s foreheads outside of Parsons,” Aaron said casually, “Agent Hawthorne explained he was part of William’s security team and had been appointed to look out for you while he was gone. He was adamant that remaining out of sight was imperative to his assignment. And he had been doing that for weeks until he got sloppy, and I noticed him.” Aaron snorted as if disappointed in Agent Hawthorne for being caught.
“Guille.” William placed his hand on my leg.
I jerked away from his hold. “Don’t touch me.”
I wanted to storm out of the SUV when Aaron parked outside our apartment building. The sadness, anger, and disappointment that had piled up as the night progressed were suffocating me. But I took a deep, patience-lacking breath and waited for Aaron to get the door for us.
William stepped out first and offered his hand to help me get out of the vehicle. But I didn’t fall into his trap. If I allowed him to grab my hand, I didn’t know if I was strong enough to release it this time. I needed him so badly, but at the same time, I wanted to allow myself to be angry at him. I needed to be angry at him. I loved him so damn much that I knew I could forgive that man in a heartbeat.
It was the only way I would be able to set a real precedent because I needed everyone around me to stop treating me like a fucking child. Including him. Especially him, even if it was for my own good or my safety.
Why did every single man in my life end up feeling the pulsing male need to lie to “protect me?” I never expected William to act this way.
“Miss Murphy,” Aaron said when the elevator doors slid open. “Do you need me to walk—”
“No, thanks. I don’t need you to walk me up to my apartment,” I said, stepping inside. “I can manage on my own.”
“I’m more worried about him than I am about you.” Aaron smiled and jerked his chin at William, who followed me inside the elevator. I scoffed. Of all the moments of all the years I’ve known Aaron, this was the moment he chose to crack a joke? I hated him even more because I had to pretend to cough to avoid smiling.
“As you should be.” I clicked on the number 9 button and said good night to Aaron, letting the doors close as I leaned back against the elevator’s wall. I promised myself to be mad at Aaron for at least a few days to allow him to think about how he betrayed my trust by keeping me out of the loop about Agent Hawthorne.
“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re angry.” William moved in front of me, and before I could even draw in a breath, he had one hand behind my neck and the other around my waist. His lips crashed against mine into a passionate kiss I couldn’t find the strength to pull away from.
My fingers combed through his hair and pulled at it in a way that I knew would make him go wild for me in a heartbeat. He gripped my thighs and lifted me off the floor. My legs wrapped around his waist, disregarding the fact that I was wearing a dress and it had climbed up to my hips. But fuck it. He had my body firmly pressed against the wall, and I could feel his growing erection between us. A faraway voice inside my head shouted words at me that I couldn’t make out because William’s cinnamon-wine-tasting tongue had me in a chokehold. He was all groans and bites, and for a second, I forgot we were inside an elevator until it stopped on the 9th floor with a mocking chime.
The magic was gone. The anger was back. I pulled back and broke off the kiss. “Put me down.” I turned my head to the side to make a point that I wouldn’t allow him to kiss me again. His face was so close to mine that the temptation to give into his charms and forget about my feelings, momentarily at least, was strong.
I couldn’t allow it.
“No.” He squeezed my thighs harder and pressed his mouth against my neck. “This little red silk number is making me go insane.”
William slid his hands on my skin a bit further, feeling them disappear inside my dress as they moved to my ass, and a soft moan betrayed me. “Put. Me. Down.”
“I will”—he left a trail of kisses down my neck—“if you let me explain.”
“I’ll let you explain.” My words came out breathless. A huge part of me wanted to forget about everything until tomorrow. To have William help me forget like I knew he could. But I couldn’t. Selective amnesia wasn’t the answer or a real possibility. Explanations were, though. And I needed him to explain himself.
The doors clicked shut behind us as William gently put me back on my feet. The elevator was still on our floor, so I pushed number 9, and the doors slid open for us again.
I pulled my phone out of my purse as William followed me to my apartment door.
Me: Can you get the security tape from the elevator
and get rid of it?
Aaron: On it.
Me:Don’t look at it.
Aaron: Of course, Miss.
Me:I’m very mad at you.
Aaron: I know. Sorry, Miss.
“I asked Aaron to pull the surveillance tape from the elevator,” I said as I fetched my keys.
“Thanks. Good call.” William was quicker than me and unlocked my door before I could. The gesture pissed me off.
“I can get my own door.” I stepped inside. “I think it’s best if we talk tomorrow. I’m too worked up right now. Good night, William.” I tried closing the door, but he stuck his foot out before I could shut it.
Deja vu.
“You know how the story ends,” he said with a chuckle. “Let me in.”
“With my hand leaving an imprint on your face and you walking away to lick your wounds?” I kept my weight against the door out of sheer obstination. William could open the door and come inside if he wanted to. There was no way I could overpower him.
“No. It ends with me getting the girl.”
“Well, the girl is furious tonight.” I kept bumping my shoulder against the door to get him to move his foot.
“I would gladly let you channel your anger properly in bed,” he said. “I’ve been told it’s therapeutic.”
Ugh. Cecile had told me countless times how angry sex was great sex. She’d proven that time and time again with Tobias, who was mostly angry all the time because he couldn’t have her all to himself.
“Stop distracting me!” I whisper-shouted. “Get your foot out of the way. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I’ve calmed down.”
“We both know you won’t be any less angry tomorrow.”
He knew me well, but I needed a long shower and to maybe cry a little in peace. There was so much to process. The worry and sadness caused by my dad’s last threat were both creeping up on me like poison ivy. I needed to think about solutions on my own before William started offering to pay for my final year at Parsons.
My dad was cornering me, but there was no way I would end things with William to get his financial support back. I’d rather apply for a scholarship and get a second job on weekends or a side hustle than cave to my father’s wishes.
“The only reason I let you walk out of that elevator was because you told me you’d let me explain,” William reminded me.
“And I will.” I stopped struggling to close the door, but William didn’t try to come inside. “I just didn’t say when.”
“Fair enough.” He pulled his foot out of the way. “What did your father tell you when he set you aside to talk?” William asked through the narrow door opening, but I couldn’t find any words to formulate a response. I couldn’t open this particular can of worms. At least not before he and I talked about our stuff first. But I didn’t want to do any of those things yet.
My silence had to serve as an answer for now.
“Let me know when you’re ready to talk.” He didn’t sound mad but rather like he had finally surrendered. “Good night, ?lskling.”
The door shut with a soft click. I leaned back against it and slid down to the floor. I curled my legs into my chest, and a choked sob escaped my throat. The tears came hot and fast, hitting me without warning, sliding down my face and dripping on my knees.
Fuck. I thought I’d make it to my room before falling apart.
My mind was going a thousand miles per hour thinking about possible solutions to my father’s decision to stop paying for school. But I also kept asking myself over and over again … why? Why would he want to control me that way? Why would he condition his support?
I decided those were questions I’d probably never have the answer to. So much had happened with my father in the last few months, and I’d been trying to forgive him for all of it, but it seemed like he was determined to keep adding items to our growing list of issues.
We only had each other left, or at least that’s what I had thought for so many years after my mother’s passing. But it was nothing but a ridiculous fantasy I’d concocted as a coping mechanism.
Not only did he manage to constantly remind me of how little of him I had left and how I couldn’t count on him. Not really. But reflecting on his absence in my life led me to accept that our relationship was a mirage.
And now it felt real. I’d finally lost him. Or maybe he’d lost me because I was tired of working on our relationship while he strived to ruin it with his actions.
My own thoughts were conspiring to consume me.
A part of me wanted to go to William’s apartment and let him explain, but I knew myself. The irritation was boiling in the pit of my stomach, and I didn’t want to argue with him when the anger and indignation were so acute. Not only did I want to avoid lashing out at him, but I was also afraid that something would happen that would get in the way of our relationship. I refused to believe he would lie to me about something like that, so I was stalling. What if he confirmed he had done that against my knowledge and gave me an explanation to try to justify why he did it?
I wasn’t emotionally ready for the perfect image I had of him to collapse.
Determined to stop feeling sorry for myself, I stood and removed my coat, letting it drop on one of the foyer chairs, and walked to my room while unzipping my red silk dress. I let it fall to the floor once I was inside my room and stepped out of it. My shoes came out next, and then I walked into the shower.
It was hard to tell if I was still crying under the hot spray, but the unyielding tug in my chest suggested I was. And it made me feel so freaking alone. I knew I wasn’t. I had William, even if I was mad at him. The Sj?bergs and my friends were also a great support system. But there’s nothing like finding yourself in an emotionally challenging situation to make you feel alienated from the rest of the world. It’s like you’re the only one going through something awful, and no one can understand how you’re feeling.
After showering, I brushed my teeth, changed into cozy pajamas, and blow-dried the excess moisture from my hair. I was determined to try to get some sleep when I saw a small envelope right off where the invisible door separated our rooms. I picked it up and examined it.
The envelope was sealed with a Lisa Frank unicorn sticker. My heart swelled with feeling as I chuckled under my breath. William could’ve walked in through this door and demanded we talk, but he was respecting the space I’d asked of him.
Fuck, I love him so damn much.
When I opened the envelope, there was a small note that read:
Jag visste inte, ?lskling.
?lskling was all I could understand, but the note made me cry even if I couldn’t understand its meaning. I could feel how William was trying to make me feel better with it, and the fact that it was written in Swedish was a gesture I appreciated. If I wanted to know what it said, I could grab my phone and translate it, and if I didn’t and still needed space, I could ignore it and go to bed.
You’ll always have a choice with me, he told me once upon a time.
I left the envelope beside my phone on my nightstand and climbed into bed. My head felt heavy as it sunk deep in the pillows. I shut my eyes and filled my lungs with a deep breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
My eyes popped open, and my hand reached out for my phone. Who was I kidding? There was no way I’d be able to fall asleep without knowing what William said in that letter. I didn’t have to grab it because I’d memorized the words.
Jag visste inte, ?lskling.
I hit the translate button, and the results came out:
I didn’t know, darling.