Chapter 29 #3
There stood Arthur and Smiles, shoulder to shoulder, blocking the doorway with their backs.
They were like two burly sentinels whose only task was to burrow a hole into the opposite wall with their stares.
Smiles’ winking smiley tattoo on the back of his shaved head creased as he cocked his head, as if awaiting orders.
Even more disconcerting was the bold script beneath the yellow tattoo that spelled out “Enjoy your day” when the guy was almost as serious as my husband.
“Hold on a second,” I told Maeve, then muted the phone. “Hello, guys. Would you mind moving? I’m going to take a walk along the harbor.”
Neither gave me space. If anything, they closed ranks and choked the doorway of even the smallest crack of wiggle room.
“Where’s the boss?” Arthur scraped out, his voice close to the rasp of stone grating against stone.
“He’s busy on the phone. I’m going for a walk. Let me pass, please.”
“No can do, Ms. Marine. No one in or out without the boss’ say so.”
I shook my head. “You need to work on your jokes. It lacked humor.”
“Wasn’t our intention, ma’am,” Smiley stated coolly.
“Please get back inside. For your safety.” Arthur grabbed the door handle and began to close it.
For a split second, I considered jamming a foot through, kicking in the back of their knees, and walloping the nerve just behind their jaws to knock them out, but then again, they were just doing their jobs.
The door snicked shut, but instead of hopelessness, my inner rage gauge shot up several notches.
I thought of all those times Cillian followed me when it should have been inappropriate.
Such as escorting me to the bathroom when we went out to eat and then standing guard at the door, not allowing anyone inside until I exited.
And his tagalongs to the drugstore when all I needed were tampons.
Or how he always kept me in sight, and I rarely ever got a moment alone.
Goddamn it, I really let him throw a veil over my eyes.
“Alice,” the bastard called from his office.
“Oui,” I yelled. “Still here, abruti.” Jerk.
I stomped past him, flipped him off, then collapsed on the couch, legs akimbo, arms loose, the smooth ceiling and ceiling fan we bought when decorating his condo my sole view.
An ache drilled through my chest. What a fool I’d been.
So blind. So utterly dazzled by the mirage of everything I’d always wanted that I hadn’t noticed how he was slowly sucking away who I was.
I slammed my fist against the couch. Thump, thump, thump.
I placed the phone back to my ear. “Are you still there?”
“I wasn’t going to leave you.”
“I’ll meet you tomorrow at noon. Text me the place.”
“You sure you want to hang up? I know you’re not okay.”
My face scrunched up.
“Maybe it’s time to let this go,” she said. “Orgasms aren’t worth this.”
“Great orgasms are worth everything.”
I stopped tallying the ones Cillian gave me a long time ago, but I’d bet I was close to my ninety-one goal, if it hadn’t already been exceeded. Not that I’d admit that. Maeve would read way too much into it.
“That’s it. I’m buying you all the DIY tools tonight.”
I sucked in a chuckle and tucked my legs under me. “You are absurd.”
“No, I’m a freaking genius.”
“Maeve…I have to see this through.”
“Oh god.” Her horror blared through the line. “No, babe, no.”
“What?”
“You’re falling in love with him.”
“I’m not—”
“I wasn’t born yesterday. You are. Your voice wouldn’t be shaking otherwise. I warned you. You said this was only supposed to be revenge. You were only supposed to get back what you felt was owed.”
“In a way, he owes me this too.”
“He’ll only hurt you, like he’s already done.”
I rubbed my eyes, unable to voice another denial. Was it love? I wasn’t sure, but it was something. Something strong enough for the idea of it ending to hurt.
“This is only a setback.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Yes.”
I had to. In a way, I saw myself in him.
There was a darkness swirling behind his eyes, chipping away at him.
I’d seen it. I’d witnessed him fighting it.
There was pain, hurt, and a hole in him in need of healing, just like me.
He’d been helping my edges sew themselves back together.
Not perfectly—nothing broken ever healed without a scar—but it was enough for new skin to knit over the wound into something unique and strong. I wanted to do that for him too.
She growled long and hard. “You’re deluding yourself. He likes Alice.”
“Well, that was the point.”
“So what happens next? What about Alizé? What happens when he finds out who you really are? Do you really think he’ll still care about you? Fuck, Al. Protect your heart, damn it. I don’t want to see you left in pieces, and he will do that to you.”
“He won’t. I mean something to him.”
“You don’t even know why he abandoned you from the get-go seven years ago. What if it’s your last name he can’t stand?” Her voice softened. “What if whatever he feels for you now isn’t enough to overcome that? What if he abandons you again?”
My jaw fell open, but nothing came out. Words clogged my throat before they crumbled and plunged into churning stomach acid. My insecurities spearheaded my thoughts because I couldn’t ignore how credible that sounded.
“I have to go,” I whispered, dropping my head between my legs. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She wasn’t wrong. I needed answers from him, but I wasn’t ready to hear the possibility that it had all been an illusion.
My feelings were real, and I wanted my husband. I needed him to want me, too, the real me. A conversation meant I either went back to the old me, who hid her longing behind ambition and a wall of confidence, or we moved forward together as a real couple.