Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
T he week passed by in a slow blur, life feeling somewhat normal knowing that Alfie was in a whole other country.
Keira was gone more than ever, working or partying I didn’t know.
I kept up with her as much as she could but when I did catch a moment with her, she seemed distant.
Maia was her usual self, a silent roommate who only left her room occasionally to eat and drink. It was like living with a hungry ghost.
Saturday night rolled around and I was once again faced with the choice of whether or not to do what Alfie wanted.
I stared at the dress he’d requested I wear.
So seemingly inoffensive. But putting it on made a statement.
My hair and makeup were fixed, Alfie would be here any second and here I stood, in my underwear, locked in indecision.
The knock at the front door sent my anxiety into overdrive.
Without thinking, I threw the dress on my bed and pulled out a similar one in forest green.
I could hear Maia answering the door as I wrestled it over my head.
It was too tight and I tugged at it, yanking it over my hips.
The zip pinched at my waist as I tried to fasten it.
I should have just worn the blue. I was about to pull it off but the knock at my bedroom door gave me no time to change.
I opened the door and there he was, in all his grey suit glory.
“Hey,” I breathed.
“Hey, yourself.” He ran his gaze over my dress as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Suddenly my bedroom felt very small. “Feeling rebellious, huh?”
Ignoring his comment I turned and began throwing my phone and essentials into my clutch. “How was your trip?”
“Boring.” He looked over my chaotic mess of a bedroom.
“I’m guessing you hate this room worse than my old one.”
“I wish you didn’t live like this, but I don’t hate it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, something was off.
The first time Alfie had been in my home, he’d run his x-ray eyes over every inch of it, gathering every piece of information he might need about me.
The first time he’d been in my bedroom, he’d done the same thing but this time, nothing.
As if he’d already seen it and there was nothing new to learn.
“Well, good. I’m ready, I just need shoes.” Before I could move, he opened the closet door to his right, revealing my shoe collection in a mangled pile at the bottom of it. I stared at him. “How did you know my shoes were in there?”
“Where else would they be? There isn’t exactly a walk-in wardrobe.” He knelt, selecting a pair of black pumps. “These?”
I took them from him, slipping them onto my feet. He picked up the abandoned blue dress from my bed, I watched him finger the material.
“Why didn’t you wear it?”
“Because I wanted to wear this one instead.”
“Bullshit.” He scowled at me. “You don’t even like it as much. You’re holding yourself different–is it uncomfortable?” He ran his gaze over my body, landing on my waist where the material pinched.
For once, I found myself wishing Alfie was a normal, oblivious guy. “Why do you have to see everything?”
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“I’m not, I?—”
“It’s just a dress, Lola,” he cut me off.
“It doesn’t mean I won. Not anymore.” I studied his gaze and I wasn’t sure what lingered there.
Embarrassment? Pain at the memories of how he made me the paranoid creature I was now.
I felt the pain of those too. The ease with which he could manipulate me was a constant reminder that I couldn’t trust this man.
“You can’t blame me for?—”
“I don’t,” he cut me off again. “I know this is my fault.” He sighed, looking down at the crumpled material in his hands. He looked so tired, like the weight of the world was so heavy and it all rested on his shoulders. He handed me the dress. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Five minutes later, I stepped outside to find Alfie leaning against his car, his eyes lighting up when he saw me wearing the blue dress.
It felt good to see him looking at me like that, but that good feeling was immediately followed by dread creeping up my spine.
Despite the nagging sense that I was inching towards danger, I put my shoulders back and walked down the steps to meet Alfie at his car.
“You look beautiful. May I?” He lifted his hands to my hair, waiting for my permission. I nodded. Slowly, he removed the grips that were pinning my hair in place until it fell loose around my shoulders. He ran his fingers through a lock. “I missed your hair.”
“You haven’t mentioned it yet, that I cut most of it off. I thought it would have been the first thing out of your mouth but that first time you saw me again, you didn’t even seem surprised.”
“I guess I wasn’t.” He slid his hand further into my hair, his fingertips brushing my scalp. I shivered, tensing.
“Alfie…” My tone was full of warning.
He pulled his hand away immediately. “I apologise. You not wanting to wear this dress, it wasn’t just about your fear of my control, was it? You didn’t want to wear it because you’re afraid of me being attracted to you.”
I was tempted to deny it but then I decided, what was the point? He’d know I was lying anyway. “You figured all that out in the last five minutes?”
“I figured that out in the last five seconds, since I looked at you and you froze like you wanted to run back inside.” We eyed each other, letting this new revelation sit with each of us.
“If you don’t want me, I’m safer.” I shrugged.
“You know, sometimes you have really bad breath in the morning.” Of all the things I could have guessed he was going to say next, that would never have been it.
“Your point?”
“My point is that I always want you.” He stepped closer to me, his gaze darkening. “No matter how you look, you’re never safe from that, O’Connell.” With that, he opened my door, and under his heated gaze I slid inside onto the cool leather. This was going to be a long night.
“So, where are we going this time?” I asked when he slid in beside me. “Another fetish club?”
“No. Don’t look so nervous, you’re going to enjoy it,” he grinned, “I swear it on my money.”
We drove for over an hour before Alfie finally pulled into a deserted side road. Street lights disappeared leaving our headlights alone to guide us. Anxiety prickled in my stomach, rising when he pulled up in front of what looked like an abandoned church. It was boarded up, falling down in places.
“Uh…so, am I about to be sacrificed or…?” I trailed off as I stared out at the place that I was ninety nine percent sure was haunted. Alfie chuckled beside me, unbuckling his seat belt.
“Come on.”
Outside, the cool autumn air bit me. I looked up at the foreboding building. I did not want to go in there.
“Alfie, if there’s a priest in there and I’m about to be tricked into marrying you, I swear to God I’ll?—”
“There’s no priest. Just trust me, alright?” I gave him a disdainful look but it didn’t seem to faze him. I took a breath and followed his lead to the front steps. “Just out of curiosity, what would you have done if I had planned a wedding?”
“Married you. Obviously.”
“And regretted it later?”
“Oh yeah. Big time.” I glanced up at him as he shook his head.
“We’ve gotta make fun of ourselves, Alfie.
This whole story of ours would be way too depressing if we didn’t.
Truthfully, if you’d planned a wedding I would have told you to go fuck yourself and I would have never spoken to you again, but you already know that. ”
To my surprise, he chuckled. “Blunt as ever.”
The old iron handle creaked as Alfie turned it, the tired hinges groaning as he swung the door open.
I stepped inside and gasped when I realised we weren’t alone.
Dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on us from the dais.
Where there should be an altar and a podium, instead was an empty space filled with musicians.
“The London Symphony Orchestra,” Alfie whispered.
I stared up at him, lost for words. I walked down the aisle, fixed at his side.
The conductor stood centre stage, calmly waiting.
No one moved, no one spoke. Alfie guided us into a pew where cushions and blankets waited for us. “This spot has the best acoustics.”
“Alfie, what is this?” I asked, sliding into my seat.
“It’s something I wanted you to experience live.
I would have taken you to a show but I wanted privacy.
Here,” he pulled a plush blanket over my lap, settling it around me, “I didn’t want you to be cold.
” He turned to the front and gave a brief nod to the conductor who turned to face his orchestra. Alfie grinned at me. “Are you ready?”
Ready for what?
Before I could ask, the orchestra broke out into a complex series of notes I would know anywhere. Vivaldi. The Four Seasons. Live . Our own private show in an abandoned building with the best acoustics. I looked at Alfie, his gaze intent on me. A smile broke out over my face.
I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “This is so fucking cool.”
He grinned right back at me and when he slipped his hand into mine, I didn’t fight it. I fell into the music, the lilting tones that had served as the soundtrack to our dark romance.
He settled into his seat and I watched a curious kind of calm smooth over him as the notes echoed up to the arched ceiling. I didn’t know why, but Vivaldi did something to him.
For once, I stopped thinking. I stopped worrying about everything that we were and had been and might be. I just let us be, his hand in mine and centuries old notes cocooning us with their sweet cacophony.
Spring turned to Summer turned to Autumn and finally Winter and I grew ever more aware of Alfie’s body next to mine, of all the things his hands could do were they to slip under the blankets.
No one would know, but he didn’t try, not once.
His eyes fixed on the orchestra like he couldn’t look away. He was a man entranced.