Chapter 44
Hey, I’m staying at Randell’s tonight. There are leftovers from last night in the fridge for you to heat up. I hope you had a good day. Let me know when you get home.
Old message from Kate’s mum
Kate
Henry opened the passenger door of his Bentley and gestured at me to get in.
I hesitated—I was soaked through and my trousers were muddy, but what choice did I have?
I couldn’t walk back to the hotel alone and risk running into Randell again.
He must be livid about the turn our encounter had taken. So I followed Henry’s silent order.
He closed the door, walked around the car and slid into the driver’s seat.
Without a word, he turned on the engine and cranked up the heating.
Warm air blew out at me. I shivered and sunk into the seat with relief.
The confrontation with Randell had only lasted ten or fifteen minutes, but it had drained a week’s worth of energy on a day when I was already feeling fragile.
Henry drove off, still not speaking. The silence between us felt deafening—or maybe it was just my own thoughts screaming at me.
I glanced over at Henry uncertainly. His eyes were fixed on the road, his jaw tense.
He had seemed relieved at the cemetery that I was OK, but now he seemed annoyed more than anything else.
“Are you angry at me?” I asked.
Henry didn’t look at me. “No.”
“But you seem angry.”
“I’m thinking,” he replied as we stopped at a red light. I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t speak.
The light turned green, and we drove on in silence.
I hated this tension—there had never been so much coldness and distance between us, not even during our first encounter in the park.
I didn’t blame Henry. He should have been in his office sorting out his own problems instead of getting dragged into my past and having to deal with Randell.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
He sighed. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I just wish you hadn’t had to witness that.”
Henry abruptly pulled the car into a parking space at the side of the road and turned to face me.
His eyes were piercing. “Do you have any idea how glad I am that I witnessed that? I’m not mad at you—I’m mad at myself for finishing some ridiculous email before I left.
You can’t imagine how scared I was when I saw you there with that guy.
And the knife . . .” He shook his head as if trying to banish the memory.
I swallowed. “You . . . you didn’t seem scared.”
“Believe me, I was. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.” He reached over the centre console for my hand and gently stroked his thumb over my cold skin.
The tender look in his eyes tugged at something in my chest. Despite how much he had on his plate, he had dropped everything just to be there for me.
“How did you even find me?”
“Tilly called me and said you’d cried in her office.
I was worried about you. The old iPhone I gave you is still linked to my account, and I tracked you using Find My,” he explained hesitantly.
“I’ve never checked up on you before, but when I saw you were at a cemetery after Tilly’s call, I was worried.
I wanted to make sure you were all right. I hope that was OK.”
“It was.” I wouldn’t have called Henry, but I was still glad that he’d come. And it was nice to know that someone cared about me enough to worry. No one had looked out for me since my mum had fallen prey to Randell and the drugs.
“Good, that’s a relief,” Henry said with a smile. But instead of starting the engine and taking us back to the hotel, he got out and came to open my door.
I reluctantly left the warm car and stepped out into the cold drizzle. I glanced around. He had parked in front of a café called Better Days. The name was pretty ironic on a day like today.
“What are we doing here?”
“We’re talking,” Henry said. “Or rather, you’re talking and I’m listening.”
He took my hand and led me into the café.
It smelled incredible—of roasted coffee beans and pastries.
A young woman with pink hair stood behind the counter, carefully decorating cookies.
She looked up as the bell above the door chimed, announcing our arrival.
Her smile faltered at the sight of us—Henry in his elegant coat and tailored suit, and me in my worn leather jacket and mud-streaked trousers, both of us drenched to the bone.
The café was nearly empty, save for a couple and a blond woman working on her laptop—probably because most people were either at work or avoiding the rain in the comfort of their own homes.
“What would you like?” Henry asked.
“A tea.” The cakes and cupcakes on display looked delicious, and on any other day, the selection would have cheered me up. But I had no appetite today, and I dreaded the conversation we were about to have. I had avoided talking to Henry about my mum and Randell so far, but he deserved the truth.
“Find us a table. I’ll join you in a minute.”
I nodded and chose a booth in the furthest corner of the café. The place had a cosy charm, with small tables and chairs, and comfy seating areas piled with colourful cushions. The walls were dark green, and standing lamps cast a warm, inviting glow, even on a gloomy day like today.
I watched as Henry chatted with the woman at the counter.
Her eyebrows were knitted tightly together, her expression inexplicably sceptical.
Was she upset with us for leaving puddles on the floor?
They spoke for a moment longer, their conversation animated.
Finally, she nodded, and he handed her his credit card.
He came to the table without our order while the woman approached the other customers. I watched curiously as Henry removed his coat and draped it over the back of a chair at the neighbouring table before slipping around to the bench to sit next to me. “What were you talking about for so long?”
“I asked Kaycee to close the café.”
“Why?”
“So we can talk without being disturbed.”
“And she actually agreed?” I asked, disbelief creeping into my voice as I watched the blond woman shut her laptop and the couple slip on their coats. None of them looked the least bit annoyed about having to leave.
“I said I would pay everyone’s bill, and offered her a very generous sum as compensation for the next hour.”
“That’s really not necessary!”
“Yes, it is. I don’t want anyone eavesdropping, or for more photos of us to end up in the news. This is too important,” he said firmly.
The other guests left Better Days, and Kaycee flipped the sign on the door to “Closed” before returning to the counter to make our drinks. Shortly after, she brought us two cups of tea.
“There you go,” she said with a smile.
I avoided her gaze, uncomfortable that Henry had paid for us to have the café to ourselves. Still, although I found it over the top, I preferred to have this conversation in private too.
“Thank you,” Henry said.
“You’re welcome. I’ll be in the kitchen if you want anything else. Just use the little bell on the counter, and I’ll come straightaway,” said Kaycee, before disappearing through a door.
I took two packets of sugar from the stand on the table and tipped them into my tea. The entire time, I could feel Henry’s inquisitive eyes on me. I felt uneasy. After all, there was a reason I had avoided telling him about my past.
He noticed my hesitation and touched my hand gently. Our fingers intertwined instinctively, and the gesture gave me the strength to speak.
“It’s the anniversary of my mum’s death today.”
“Kate . . .” He sighed deeply, seeming disappointed that I hadn’t shared the burden with him sooner. His fingers squeezed mine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged. “You have so much on your plate. Things are really kicking off at the hotel, the Pearl Gala is just around the corner, and everyone wants something from you. I didn’t want to make you worry about me on top of all that.”
“I worry about you most when I don’t know what’s going on with you.
” The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming—my chest tightened, and I looked away, though I managed a nod.
Henry raised our intertwined fingers to his lips and kissed the back of my hand.
“Do you want to tell me who that guy was? He seemed to know you.”
I hesitated, resisting my usual urge to dodge the topic, but Henry’s gentle touch and steady gaze melted my resistance.
“Randell was my mum’s boyfriend. They met three years ago.
Back then, me and my mum were living in a small apartment in Richmond.
She was an amazing mum, and gave me everything she had to give, but she suffered from depression.
She didn’t have an easy life—her dad beat her when she was a kid, and she ran away from home when she was seventeen.
Sometimes, her mental health made it difficult for her to work. ”
Henry listened intently.
I took a sip of my tea, but my throat still felt dry and scratchy, as if my body were trying to stop me from continuing.
But I went on anyway. “Four years ago, she had a pretty bad depressive episode. She was unemployed, and we were behind on the rent. It really weighed on her. I dropped out of school to support her financially, but that somehow made things worse. She was in a really bad place until she met Randell at a mutual friend’s party.
At the beginning, I had no reason to question their relationship.
Randell seemed to make my mum happy. She enjoyed his attention, and with the extra money I was earning, things finally seemed to be improving. ”
Looking back, I felt so naive. I had truly believed that things were getting better. Now I knew that those few hopeful days had just been the calm before the storm.