Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mia
We pull up to Lottie’s house, and the sight of the floor to ceiling windows still has my mouth parting in awe. I think about the library and how Alfie took me hard and rough the last time we were here. I wonder whether we’ll get a chance to sneak away tonight.
Alfie’s hand slips into mine, and before we can even knock, the door swings open. We say our hellos to everyone, and they say congratulations. Katie and Lottie both pull me in for a tight squeeze as Jonesy gives me a stern nod, which I take as his highest compliment.
Lottie ushers us into the dining room as apparently getting your doctorate is worthy of using the formal dining room.
The long table has benches rather than proper chairs, which surprises me given that I’ve been to her country estate, where the furniture is so lavish it’s practically regal.
This is simpler, yet still refined. The table runner is forest green, matching the trees that peek in through the windows.
White candles of different shapes and sizes are perfectly laid out together.
Fir tree sprigs and pine cones are woven between them.
The warm glow of the candles sparkles off the golden cutlery.
“This is amazing,” I say as Alfie helps me onto the bench.
“It’s not every day you become a doctor. Welcome to the club.” Lottie smiles.
“Well, I thought it was a prerequisite for Dinner Club, so I thought I’d better get on with it.” I wink, catching Jonesy’s smirk opposite me to the right.
“Well, we were willing to amend the rules to keep you, but now we don’t have to rewrite the bi-laws,” Katie chirps. As she and Jonesy are sitting on the same side of the table, she doesn’t see his mouth twitch up.
Lottie begins to serve out the food, and Alfie explains that Caleb is working at the hospital tonight so won’t be attending, but he says congratulations.
“Have you got your graduation date yet?” Katie asks, digging into her meal now that Lottie has sat down.
“Not yet. It should be a few more months. I’m hoping to have a job by then at least. I’ve already given Alfie my resignation.”
Katie and Lottie giggle, and Jonesy barks out a laugh.
“Given all he did to keep you around, I bet he’s pissed about that,” Jonesy says.
I turn to Alfie, who has a hint of pink highlighting his cheeks. “You told them about Texas?”
“Of course. I missed Dinner Club that week, and you can’t not show up without a decent excuse. Getting my employee—”
“And the love of your life,” Lottie interjects.
“—back was apparently deemed an acceptable absence,” he continues without flinching.
My heart flutters like it’s taking off and leaving my body entirely.
Everyone freezes and if I wasn’t on the edge of my seat waiting for someone to acknowledge what Lottie just said, it would be rather comical.
He’s not denying it… he’s not acknowledging it either.
When five seconds pass with deathly silence, I decide, it’s definitely not a good sign.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I told him I love him.
He hasn’t said it back and I meant what I said that I don’t expect him to.
But to know we’re heading in that direction would be appreciated.
I don’t want to look like an idiot by declaring my love for him to say we’ll be better off as friends.
I feel his love all the time, but a girl has needs, and some words of affirmation would definitely be appreciated.
“Don’t think about it too much, Dr. Sinclair.” He bends down, his lips grazing the shell of my ear.
Heat floods my cheeks as I try to decipher what he means by that. Does he love me or not? The rest of the table look around the room awkwardly, pointing out nonsense things under their breaths.
He captures my mouth in a brutal kiss, and I melt, completely and utterly melt. He might not say the words but that kiss tells me everything I need to know. If he doesn’t take me up to the library after dinner, I’m going to drag him there myself.
As we break apart the table claps and I push my nose into his neck to hide my pink cheeks.
“We really thought the house was a bit excessive, but Alfie insisted he wanted you close by.” Jonesy laughs, and Alfie stiffens next to me. I look at him, his face sinking within seconds.
“The house?”
“Yes, the house he bought for you.” Jonesy nods.
Wait. What?
“I’m confused…what house?”
The table falls into stunned silence, and I feel like I’ve been left out of a terrible joke that no one is willing to share.
“Alfie, I’m so sorry, I thought Mia knew,” Jonesy rasps.
“What house, Alfie?” I repeat.
“You didn’t have anywhere to live, and I knew you wouldn’t accept it…” he mutters.
I suck in my cheeks, my tongue tasting sour in my mouth as realization descends.
“The couple whose house I’m living in. They aren’t really in Australia, are they?”
“They are. But they agreed to sell me the house instead. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to go on for this long; I was going to tell you about it.”
“Katie, Jonesy, could you just help me with something in the kitchen for a minute?” Lottie says, spinning herself over the bench so she can get out of this conversation.
“So you bought a second house, and what? I was just going to live there forever?”
“Technically, I don’t own the house. You do.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, huffing. “Alfie, stop speaking in riddles because I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
He flinches, his hand drawing back like I might grab a fork and stab him with it. Jury’s out on that one.
“When you mentioned you needed somewhere to live, I bought the property a few houses down from mine. I thought it would be good for your commute, and you would be close to the office. You would be in a safe neighborhood. But the deed is in your name. It’s in the safe at home. I’ll give it to you later.”
“Why is it in my name?”
What is wrong with this man? He’s so infuriatingly dense, it’s astounding. How many lies has he told me since he promised to be honest? How many more lies is it going to take until he trusts me with the truth? Why can no man ever trust me with the truth?
“I didn’t want you to think I had control over your living situation on top of everything else.”
“So you let me believe that you were my only access to the people I was house-sitting for. I had to talk to them through you.”
His face turns sheepish. “I thought that was better. I knew you wouldn’t have accepted the house.”
“For good reason! It’s a fucking house, Alfie. My life is my own, and I will reach milestones in my own time. It’s not for you to just hand them to me.” I take a deep breath. “I—I need a minute.”
I slip off the bench and make my way upstairs. I need a minute to cool off because of the idiot sat down there. I need to work out how I really feel about this.
Alfie bought that house months ago. Months. Who buys their office manager a house? Who buys them a house but then won’t tell them they love them? It’s insane. It's goddamn certifiable.
I reach the library and I flump down into the wingback tan leather chair, avoiding the couch from the last time I was up here.
I close my eyes for a moment, regulating my breathing.
I know this isn’t the same as before. Carter, my teacher, he would hide things from me, manipulate me in ways I didn’t even understand.
And it was always done to make me pliable.
The irritation snakes up my spine. Alfie’s nothing like him; I know that.
Yet he still has these control issues where he’ll do anything to get what he wants, and he does it in a way that he thinks he knows better than me.
I just want to make my own decisions. I want to feel in control of my own choices and not maneuvered for someone else's benefit.
I sit for a few minutes, the smell of the books settling me.
We’d need to talk about this for sure. This can’t be a pattern of my life.
As I start to rise from the comfiest armchair I’ve ever parked my ass in, Lottie waltzes into the room, the ruffles of her floor-length dress billowing at her bare feet.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, just a little overwhelmed. I’m coming back down now.”
She bites her lip awkwardly, her fingers wringing in front of her stomach. “What is it?”
“Alfie had to leave. Caleb called; a patient of his has been admitted to hospital. They think she tried to hurt herself.”
I wrack my brain. We haven’t had anybody on our watchlist for a while now. Most of our patients have been quite settled and not prone to suicidal thoughts.
“He mentioned the name Helen if that helps?” she adds softly.
“Helen? No, that can’t be right. Helen is finishing up her sessions with us. She’s improved so much and…no, I don’t believe it.”
I pull out my phone to call Alfie, but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Is he going to freak out? Because of what happened when he was newly qualified?”
Her eyebrows raise, her eyes wide. “He told you about that?”
“Yeah.”
She worries her lip before continuing. “It’s possible. Alfie has a sort of code he lives by. For so long, our monthly Dinner Club was the only thing he would allow himself as a reprieve from work. Until you, of course.”
“Until me.”
She shrugs. “We’ve all been so happy that he’s finally letting go of the past. He’s making room for other things in his life.”
A kernel of doubt sits in my chest. Alfie told me about the situation after he qualified where his patient hurt themselves.
He didn’t pick up on it. And now, for the first time in years, he’s let his guard down and the same thing has happened?
Surely he’s not going to look past this as a coincidence.
Is he going to pull away? He left without even saying goodbye, at a dinner which was meant for me. After dropping a giant bomb; he bought me a house without telling me. Surely he’s just getting some air and he hasn’t actually left me here with his friends?