Chapter 53 #3
“Enough, Lola. I know that you think you have some control over this relationship and over me, but you don’t.
I have complete power over you, even when you think I don’t.
Even when you think you’ve won in some small way, there is always a plan at the back of my head that will have me in the winning seat without you even realising I was trying to cut you off. ”
My stomach clenched and I couldn’t help but think about his agreement to allow me to make my own decision about leaving with him.
“It’s just a dress, Lola,” he said, his tone a little softer. It was a tone I didn’t trust, a tone designed to entice and trick.
“And putting it on means that I’m okay with you altering me to be just like you, and I’m not.
” My lower lip trembled and I bit down hard to keep it from betraying me but it was too late.
He’d seen I was weakened and now that he had killed me with coldness, he would swoop right in and mould me with manipulation.
“Baby, you’re upsetting yourself. You don’t need to overthink this.
” He approached me slowly and I had nowhere to go, nothing to do except drop my head into my hands and try to block him out.
“Look at you. You’re cold, shivering, you started an argument with me that you knew you wouldn’t win, and you humiliated yourself, all over a dress.
Don’t you think that’s foolish?” he asked gently, his hands cupping my face, tilting my head until I was forced to look at him.
“Yes, but?—”
“You claim so often to want control, but why should I give it to you when your erratic behaviour proves that you can’t handle it?”
“Stop screwing with me, Alfie.” I meant my words to come out strong and defiant but instead they sounded more like a desperate plea.
“Lo, you don’t need to fight me so hard. I told you once to pick your battles and a fight over a dress isn’t one of them.” He held me close, my shivering body pressed against his heated one, his mouth a breath from mine. “Come on, Lola. Just give it up.”
I scowled at my reflection in the mirror. The grey dress was stunning and I really did look beautiful in it. Why did he have to be right about everything?
I’d spent all of ten seconds staring at the offending dress, sulking and trying to find a way around it before finally caving in.
We’d changed and dried our hair in silence, though I hadn’t missed the watchful look on his face as he’d fastened the buttons on his waistcoat.
He stood beside me and shrugged into his jacket, his grey suit a perfect replica of the one he’d worn earlier and of course a perfect match for my dress.
“You look very elegant, Lola.” I expected him to sound approving or smug but I was surprised to see his lifeless mask still firmly in place.
“Yes. I’m an elegant ghost, just like you.” I turned to look at him, gazing into those beautiful grey eyes that last night had shown so much depth. “Do I fit in your box now?”
He flinched but I couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset. Tired of trying to read his mind, I stepped around him and left the bedroom. He followed in silence, wisely allowing me space in my own thoughts.
When the valet pulled Alfie’s car around, the last thing I wanted to do was get in.
I had my van here, I had my keys, but the expectant look on Alfie’s face told me that driving my own vehicle was out of the question.
The cool leather felt abrasive through the rich material of the dress and it set my teeth on edge.
He pulled into morning traffic with ease and we drove in silence.
I wondered if this is what our future would be like if I left with him.
Cold silences in cold cars in cold costumes?
It wasn’t right. I was full of life and colour.
I was practically made out of sunshine and rainbows.
I saw the world with such rich vibrancy, yet Alfie saw everything in grayscale, all except for me.
If I stayed with him, how long before I saw the world in grayscale too?
I was a bright and ever-changing prism of colour and it blinded him, so he was trying to break me until I was just like him, until I couldn’t shine a light on his deadness any more.
Until I couldn’t threaten the safe cocoon he’d built, where he didn’t have to feel, where he didn’t have to love or laugh or smile or play, where he could just sit in the misery of his past sins.
And for once, I didn’t want to fight with him over it, because this wasn’t just about the dress or his drama.
I’d sketched my heart out for him and he’d punished me for it.
He pulled into Rosie’s car park under the shade of an old oak tree, keeping us hidden from prying eyes, though at this point, other than hiding it from Mark, there was little point in trying to keep this a secret any more.
He turned the engine off and then was completely still, like a lion getting ready to pounce.
“I will pick you up after work.” I looked up to see if he was serious.
“Do you really think this is going to work this way? That you can bully and manipulate me and then go back to normal when you’re done?
I’m never going to know the difference between a fish fork and a salad fork, Alfie.
I’m never going to be your subordinate either.
I’m always going to try to comfort you when you’re unhappy and call bullshit when you try to hide something from me.
” I stopped, giving him the chance to give me some sign that he was sorry, that he didn’t really need me to change, but he gave me nothing.
I pulled my gaze away before I broke and looked out of the window, trying to focus on anything but him.
I watched as Bradley pulled in and got out of his beaten up old Mazda.
The usual splitting sensation of having one foot in one world and the other foot in another rippled through me, and as Bradley disappeared out of sight I forced my gaze back to the heartbreaker beside me.
There was one more question I needed an answer to.
“I should never have designed the Evergarden for you, should I?” I whispered, my voice so broken I could barely hear my own words. I waited for him to answer but when he finally did, I wished that he hadn’t.
“Your designs were fine, Lola.”
“Is that all?” I asked, my heart breaking.
But he said nothing, only watched me with those awful, lifeless eyes.
“Fine.” I snapped off my seat belt and opened my door.
“I take it back. I take it all back! You don’t deserve that garden, and you don’t deserve me,” I shouted defiantly, but a treacherous tear slipped down my cheek, betraying me.
I wish I could say that he hadn’t seen that tear, that I’d turned my head before he could see it fall, but that wouldn’t be true.
He’d seen it, he’d seen me crying, and he’d let me leave anyway.