45
DIANA
“How on earth are you going to navigate this relationship?” Sylvie hisses from her seat on the sofa opposite me. She’s bolt upright, legs crossed, a black pencil skirt stretched tight over her thighs.
She’s come to the Emblem to visit because she said she had news to share that she didn’t want to spill over the phone, but so far all she’s done is gape at the penthouse and stare out the windows over Hyde Park. I get it, she’s an estate agent, and the place is impressive, but I wish she’d spit it out. Now, we’re sitting having tea together and it’s a bit strange and awkward, but I’m eager to know what it is she’s doing here.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You can’t stay here with him.” She nods her head in the direction of Rafe’s office, where he’s working from home. “Not with your best friend too. It’s weird.”
“Lizzie’s going to university soon. She won’t be here—”
“Still weird.”
I smile, gearing up to drop my big news. “Rafe gave me the flat downstairs.”
Sylvie’s jaw drops open so far, it almost unhinges. “Diana! After all your protests about not wanting to marry Seb, or settle down with some billionaire, or be trapped by some man’s money, you’re holed up here in luxury with Rafe Bastion.”
“It’s different. Rafe’s money doesn’t make me feel trapped. Besides, I have my own money now. I could move out if I wanted to. And I didn’t love Seb. I love Rafe.”
Frowning, Sylvie looks at her knees and swipes the back of her hand over the fabric as if there’s dirt there she wants to remove. “Love,” she says under her breath, almost like it’s a dirty word.
I glance at her ring finger, disappointed to see that tiny diamond Dave gave her is still sitting pretty on it.
“I’m really sorry about what I said about Dave,” I murmur. “About you never being happy in that marriage.”
“Hmm.” She sits, knees pulled together, hands clasped.Tight. A prickly silence descends before Sylvie shifts position and lets the words spill out. “I moved out of the flat. I couldn’t stay there after what Dad did to you. I should never have accepted it. I’m so sorry. It always felt like your place, and Dad gave it to me because he was angry with you.”
“You moved out? What about Dave?”
“Oh, he’s furious. But we’ll survive. We always do. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I came to tell you I sold the flat, and I want to give you half the money.”
I pause, my mug of tea halfway to my mouth.
“Do you know how much it was worth?” she asks.
“Nope.” I stare into my tea, as if the milky beverage has all the answers. “A couple of mill?”
“Five and a half,” Sylvie says.
My mug nearly drops out of my hand, but I manage to steady it and put it on the coffee table. “I had no idea.”
Sylvie purses her lips, pulls her oversized handbag onto her lap, pinching the rim of it with both hands. “I transferred yourhalf to your bank account before I got here. If it’s not in there already, it will be soon.”
Shock tingles through me. “But it’s yours. He gave it to you.”
Sylvie stands, ready to leave now she’s delivered her news. She slides the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “It wasn’t mine. Not really. He gave it to me because he was pissed with you. And I was very uncomfortable with it, so please accept the money and my apology.”
It doesn’t feel like a hug moment, but I want to throw my arms around her anyway because I think she needs it. “Does Dave know?”
Sylvie’s brows pinch together. “Not yet. I might not tell him. He never shares his money with me, so my half will be my nest egg. Just in case.” A vulnerability appears in her eyes, and I get to my feet, stepping towards her until there're only inches between us.
“You don’t have to marry him,” I say. “Not if you don’t want to.”
The vulnerability disappears, and she cracks a smile that looks slightly manic. “Says the runaway bride.” The laugh that slips from her mouth has a manic edge too. “Sadly, I don’t think there’s a Rafe Bastion for me out there.” She averts her gaze, widening her eyes and blinking excessively, as if potential tears are upsetting her contact lenses. “Certainly not one who’d scoop me up and let me live in luxury if I called it off with Dave.” She clutches her bag tight to her chest. “Anyway, I love Dave, so I’m not going anywhere.”
It’s a lie. We both know it, but the look in her eye begs me not to call her out, so I don’t.
