Chapter 29 Symphony of Silence
SYMPHONY OF SILENCE
Vera
My phone buzzed with a message from Alistair.
V, call me. A.
“Hey, sexy. How are you?”
“Ah, I needed to hear your voice. You must be thrilled about the news.”
“Ah, yeah, can you believe I’m going to be an aunt?” I boasted, grinning from ear to ear. “Saph and Jules are having a baby in December, and I’m super excited. I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”
The phone line seemed to have dropped out after a few seconds of silence.
“Alistair, are you still there?”
“I’m still here.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m low. Not broken, but low.”
“Why?”
“Oliver and I were close as kids. These days we barely talk—”
“Which is understandable,” I jumped in without thinking. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, honey.”
“No, that’s fine. I deserve the punches. I tell you who I don’t deserve. I don’t deserve you.”
The silence stretched, heavy enough to crush me. For a breath, I was sure Alistair was about to end things between us. Then his voice cut through.
“My daughter’s name is Camilla. She was born just before Christmas. A little over six pounds of perfection. She’s an angel.”
“How are you feeling about Camilla?” I asked gently.
“It’s bittersweet,” Alistair admitted. “I’m happy for Oliver and Erin, but I can’t shake the guilt. Or the sadness over how it all happened.”
I clutched the phone tighter, the silence on his end stretching too long. “Do you need me?”
“Always.”
“Scotty, listen to me.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, choosing each word with care.
“That little girl may or may not ever know the truth about you being her father. But she’ll grow up loved by a man who finally has the chance to be one.
That’s the gift you gave Oliver. Focus on that.
If you keep feeding the guilt, it’ll eat you alive. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he answered.
“I know you,” I pressed. “You’ll let it consume you if you don’t learn to let go.”
“Mm-hmm.”
A faint smile tugged at my lips. “Scotty, are you fidgeting right now?”
His low laugh rolled through the line, warm and rough. “Can you read minds, sweetheart?”
“As good as it gets. I’m the goddess of badass fuckery, remember?”
“You are, indeed.”
“You’ll be fine,” I said. “Focus on your trip to Hong Kong tomorrow. Jason Zhou’s the world’s casino king, right? If you land him as a client, your real estate game changes. That deal could open doors you haven’t even imagined yet.”
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to figure out the best way forward. Days like this make me wish Nick were still alive.”
“Nick?”
“My ex-brother-in-law. Nick Quinn’s presumed dead. No body, just an explosion on his boat years ago.”
“You think Saira did it? I mean, to kill her own brother?”
“There’s no proof, but she despised him.” Alistair sighed. “Nick and I had plans to bring our companies closer. More than just a strategic alliance, but a JV. Scott-Quinn Enterprise. He was a real estate guru and finance wizard. I need to get back to reviewing the proposal.”
“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”
“Yep,” Alistair murmured. I pictured him running his fingers through his hair. “I’m leaving on a flight at nine in the morning. Will you ride with me to the airport?”
“I have work tomorrow.”
“I know. If my driver picks you up at six-thirty, he can drive you to work after dropping me at the airport. You’ll be at work by eight.”
“So, you’re after my company now?” I teased, admiring his impulsive streak.
“I need you more than anyone else.”
Tuesday morning, May 2
His hand.
His warm hand.
His warm hand on mine.
His.
The limousine ride to the airport unfolded in silence, heavy but steady, like a symphony scored in minor keys.
I breathed in Alistair’s cologne, layered over the faint smoke of polished leather.
He looked devastatingly composed in a dark-gray suit and crisp white shirt, his tie knotted with precision.
He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to.
The quiet wrapped around me like a balm, more soothing than any hollow reassurance.
His hand held mine, firm and grounding, while his other foot tapped an impatient rhythm against the floor.
I turned to the window, the morning sun spilling over the skyline in fractured bands of color. When I looked back, Alistair’s fierce green eyes were locked on me, shadowed by a hard frown. His hand tightened around mine, the silent squeeze saying more than words could.
“Vera, have you ever been in love?”
“No,” I confessed.
“I told you I loved Erin once.”
“I remember.”
“I wouldn’t be with you if I had married her. It’s possible to fall in love again. To experience a deeper love.”
I nodded.
“Do you believe in second chances?” he asked.
“I believe we deserve a second shot at love,” I answered. “If we keep gazing at the past, we trip over and fall. We may not see our future, or it may pass by, like a train zooming past. We keep on moving wherever life takes us.”
“Yet, you’ve never been in love.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’ve said it to you before, and I’ll say it again. I love you,” he proclaimed.
“Alistair—”
“Damn it, woman. I love you. Luke, take the next exit off the highway and stop the car,” Alistair ordered his driver.
A minute later, we stood at a parking lot outside Chicken Delight, a family diner in an industrial area only minutes from the airport. We were under a cheesy, faded billboard of a couple with two kids, a boy and a girl, grinning while holding up chicken drumsticks.
“Scotty, what are we doing?” I asked, folding my arms while kicking the dirt with my work shoes.
“Did you know that mutual attraction only occurs twenty percent of the time? Love even less often.”
“Alistair, I—”
“Do you feel it? Do you feel that energy between us?” Alistair grabbed my hands, cupping them in his large, warm hands.
“Yes, I feel it, and it’s powerful, but saying you love someone is a serious vow.” I frowned, feeling as if I were about to jump off a cliff with him.
“Perhaps you’re too careful.” Alistair’s eyes bore into me.
“I’m protecting my heart.” I tapped my chest.
Alistair took my hand again. He shifted his stance and cleared his throat.
“The second time I found love was with you. It’s a deeper and more mature love and doesn’t contain the recklessness of youth.
It’s far from perfect, but it’s a genuine relationship.
I love you with a felicity I can’t explain.
I don’t have expectations or a false image of you because I don’t waste time thinking of qualities to make a relationship perfect. ”
I gulped, my heart thumping rapidly. “No man has ever told me he loves me.”
“I love you, Vera. I love you. I hope you see me in the same light.”
“I need to digest all this. I mean, we’re at a parking lot off a highway, and this information is overwhelming.”
“Will you promise me one thing? Will you think of me while I’m away?” Alistair’s gorgeous eyes pleaded with mine.
I nodded and squeezed his hand. “Love isn’t a game, and I want to be true to you.”
“When I’m back, I want us to talk again. Will you do that for me?”
I nodded again, wiping a stray tear from my eye. The emotion was so strong, overloading my brain and body with a depth of feelings that swallowed me up like a tidal wave. When we arrived at the airport, Alistair pulled me into a loving embrace, allowing me to breathe in his familiar aftershave.
“I’ll call you when I’m in Hong Kong,” he promised, caressing my jawline and neck.
“I’ll miss you,” I murmured, placing my lips on his cheek, then his sensual mouth, which tasted minty fresh and felt invitingly warm.
“Vera,” he whispered in between kisses, “You’re the love of my life.”
Our eyes connected with fierce intensity before our lips locked. Breaking free from the kiss, Alistair cupped my face with his strong hands while his emerald gaze drilled into mine.
Then, just then, my small voice spoke three big words.
“I love you.”
For a heartbeat, Alistair just stared at me, stunned. Then his whole face broke open, joy lighting every line. He caught me up in his arms, laughter tumbling out of him. I shrieked, breathless, as he pulled me close, kissing me hard.
“Say it again,” he whispered, voice rough with happiness, his forehead pressed to mine.
“I love you,” I said, grinning against his mouth.
He let out a shaky breath, eyes shining. “God, I love you, too. You have no idea.”