Chapter 46
Forty-Six
I awoke to the sound of running water. I sat up in bed, the velvet canopy sheltering me from the barely dawning sun. I pulled on the gold tassel hanging from the four poster bed, drawing the canopy back.
I rubbed my eyes, seeking out the gold mantle clock over the fireplace telling me it was almost six o’clock. Who the hell was running the bath at six in the morning?
The water slowed to a stop with the squeak of a tap. I clutched the duvet to my chest. An unknown person was in my bathroom and I was in my underwear. I needed clothes.
I looked around for them and I froze. Instead of strewn across the chaise-lounge where I’d left them, they were now neatly folded, a grey jacket accompanying them over the arm of the chair.
He was here.
I’d thought I’d be safe from him here but I should have known I couldn’t trust Kal not to tell him where I was. I was mentally thrashing myself when Alfie entered the room.
My chest ached at the sight of him. His sleeves were rolled up, his hand was bandaged and circles ringed his eyes telling me hadn’t slept.
He studied me with that dark haunted gaze I thought I’d seen the last of. I hated that it was back, I hated more that it was directed at me. I was practically naked in his friend's bed. Old Alfie would be furious, what new Alfie would do I didn’t know.
“Would you like to talk before, during or after your bath?”
I blinked in surprise. That hadn’t been what I’d expected him to say. His gaze dropped to my chest and I pulled the duvet higher, covering my cleavage. A touch of anger shone in his eyes and I fought the urge to apologise. He had no right to be angry. No right to any part of me again.
“I’d like you to get out, Alfie.”
If my words hurt him, he didn’t show it. “I will but first we need to talk. So, before, during or after?”
I gritted my teeth, fury percolating in my gut.
The sheer audacity he had to walk in here and take charge was galling, but I didn’t need to wonder why he was doing it.
Once, I would have spent too much time trying to understand his behaviour.
Now, I got it. I’d had another man's hands on me.
Alfie was processing that by washing it away.
As much as I wanted to tell him to drain the water and himself with it, a bath actually sounded heavenly.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I know,” he said but he didn’t budge an inch. I was too tired for this. I felt like I had gone back in time. Back to when he would do bad things and I would let him back in because he’d worn me down until I was too beaten to keep him out.
“After, then,” I sighed. “Turn your back please.”
“I need to see your body.”
I fought the urge to scream at him. He had no right. No goddamn right.
“Kal didn’t leave a mark on me, Alfie. I understand why you want to see for yourself but I can’t be naked in front of you right now.” Not after I found out you’ve been filming every second of my life for the last two and a half years.
After a moment, he gave me a stiff nod and turned his back. His fists clenched, his shoulders tense.
I headed for the bathroom, grabbing my clothes on the way. They weren’t fresh but they would do.
I brushed my teeth first, keeping my eyes down, unable to face my reflection. I didn’t want to see the same haunted look in my eyes that I’d seen in Alfie’s.
The bath was a perfect temperature, the bubbles high and hiding my body from my own eyes. I felt so beaten up, body and soul, that I was almost surprised I wasn’t covered in bruises and grazed knees. I sank into the clawfoot tub, relishing the heat on my tense muscles.
I scrubbed my skin clean, washing the dirt and damage away but inside I still felt thick and heavy, as if Alfie had wrenched my jaws open and filled me with tar.
Sluggish, I turned on the showerhead to wash my hair. I came to a stop when I realised my hair was still bound.
My stomach turned over. Alfie had seen it and he knew what it meant. He hadn’t mentioned it, not yet anyway. He hadn’t lost his mind in anger and jealousy. I didn’t know what to make of that.
I tugged on the rope, trying to find the end so I could undo it but the complex twists and turns didn’t make sense to me. I pulled on the loops but I was only making it worse.
Come on, come on…
What had been exciting last night, this morning felt dirty. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like evidence of another man on me. A frustrated sob escaped me and just when I was on the verge of cutting my hair off all over again, I heard a soft knock on the door behind me.
“Lo?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I felt another tsunami wave of pain rise up before me, threatening to drown me. Alfie had thrown me overboard and now dangled the life raft in front of me. I hated him for it.
“Lo, I’m coming in.”
I should tell him to go to hell but I didn’t. We were past that petty shit now. I wrapped my arms over my breasts as the door opened behind me. Without a word he knelt behind me and began working the rope out of my hair. I shivered as his fingers brushed my shoulders, the nape of my neck.
“You’ll get your bandage wet,” I whispered, my voice weary.
“I don’t care, baby.”
“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever—” My words cut away as I choked on the tar, the wave crashing into me. I wondered how many waves were left. One? Ten? A thousand? How many hits would it take for me to get over what he’d done. Would I ever?
I closed my eyes as he worked, not fighting as the tears slipped free. The first time I’d lost him had felt violent, a vicious evisceration. This was different. This was deeper.
Alfie said nothing as he slowly released me and when my hair was finally free, he reached for the shower head to wash my hair. I should stop him, I should scream at him and send him packing but I was beyond that now. I didn’t want us to scream and fight anymore. It didn’t help.
With care and precision only Alfie Tell could deliver, he washed my hair. Silent as I cried, sobs drowned out by the sound of the water. By the time he was finished, my sobs had finally slowed.
We were quiet for a while. I needed him to go and I needed him to stay. Just when I thought I might snap and throw him out, he finally spoke.
“We didn’t break, Lo. I thought we would, but we’re still in one piece.”
I hated that he was right, I marvelled at it too. I hadn’t known I was this strong. This was hurting, it would hurt for a long time yet, but it wasn’t going to shatter me, not like last time.
I turned to face him. I wouldn’t be the coward that couldn’t look him in the eye. My heart constricted at the sight of tears staining his cheeks. He’d cried with me, with sorrow over the pain he’d caused me.
I sat in the tub, the bubbles so thick they hid me from view. His hands gripped the edge of the bath, knuckles white with the effort of keeping himself from touching me. His bandage was soaked, a drop of blood showing.
A part of me hated what I was about to do, but I was a person that could only ever do what came naturally.
I reached for his hand. I saw pain in his eyes, white hot and searing.
He was hurting more than me. I hadn’t realised it until then, but it was true.
His actions had always been more painful for him than for me.
Carefully, I unravelled the soaked bandage, revealing three small stitches along the back of his hand. The bleeding had already stopped. I stroked a gentle finger over the wound, evidence of the damage he’d done to us.
I didn’t bother to hold back the sob that rose in my throat. He pressed his forehead to mine and I let him give me this intimacy, this comfort that soothed the part of me he’d hurt so deeply.
He held me in that silence, barely touching me and when another tear rolled down my cheek, he kissed it away.
Eventually, when it felt easier to breathe, I pulled away. I knew I looked like hell, dark circles around my eyes and my face puffy from crying, but he looked at me like I was beautiful.
It would be so easy to sweep this away like I used to do. But I couldn’t. There were no shortcuts through this kind of pain. You had to face each and every ugly corner of it, mend the broken parts and hope at the end what you had was still functioning.
I lifted my chin, facing Alfie head on. “So, talk.”
“The cameras.”
I closed my eyes. Just the thought of them disgusted me.
“I want you to know they’ve been removed, every single one of them.”
I didn’t respond. Was I supposed to say thank you?
“I want you to know that I never filmed private moments. There were no cameras in any bathrooms, I never watched you dressing or…anything else.”
I opened my eyes, seeing the truth in his face. I felt some relief, not completely but some. At least I still had some dignity intact but it didn’t erase what he’d done.
“Is this the part where you justify what you did? Where you make it make sense? Go ahead, Alfie. Make it make sense. Make me understand how you could do that after what Adam did to me.” My voice cracked over the words and I didn’t bother trying to hide it.
“There’s no justifying what I did.” He touched the braided ribbon on his wrist, his thumb stroking over it the way I did with my mum’s necklace. The action tugged on the shrapnel in my chest, but it didn’t pull me to forgive him.
“All I can tell you is that when I had them put in place, I was in my darkest time. You know what a twisted man I was back then.” I watched him try to find the right words. I wondered how many times he’d rehearsed this speech. “In the beginning, I convinced myself that they were to keep you safe.”
“Safe from what?”