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“He won’t find anything. You’ll be wasting your time.”
“You wouldn’t be so angry if you weren’t hiding something.”
“Anyway, isn’t it hypocritical to be making such a scene about this when the whole world thinks you’re dating May?”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
“Of course it does! I let you play the besotted lover. I put my pride and jealousy aside! All I ask is that you do the same.”
“Alma…”
“Don’t search, don’t dig. Let me handle my business with Raphaël. It’s either that… or you lose me.”
He sighs frustratedly and rubs the back of his neck, then replies in that deep voice of his, “Tell your ex that if he makes you cry one more time, I’ll deal with him personally.”
30
Alma
After that threat, Vadim left. I tried to stop him, to call him back, but I knew it was pointless. I know that when things become too much for him, only solitude can soothe him. And since he never does anything by halves, he probably won’t come back until the middle of the night.
Should I have told him everything, explained it all to him?
I think the reason I’m keeping this secret is to punish myself a little longer. It weighs so heavily on my heart, constantly reminding me I wasn’t good enough. And I’m not ready to confide in him. To show him this part of me that is so damaged. To confess to him that I was about to have another man’s child. To tell him about the emptiness that fills my body, this wound that will never heal. He, who so hates opening up, should understand.
I’m walking toward my room wrapped in a plush towel when I run into Maximilian. He arrived two days ago and is currently sprawled on a sofa in the small living room. When he notices me, he quickly takes his feet off the coffee table like a child caught red-handed and drops the script he was reading.
“Max, you’re fired!” I bellow in my manliest voice.
I’m not exactly convincing.
“It’s okay, it’s just me.”
I smile at him, but the serious expression on his face doesn’t budge.
“Sorry, I was focused on my reading. Between the travel and the jet lag, I got behind. And this place is so huge, I don’t usually run into anyone else.”
Which is exactly why he knows nothing about our… secret activities.
“French Kiss!” I exclaim, reading the title of the folder lying at his feet. “So, what’s the verdict?”
“I haven’t read it all, but I loved the first half. It’s a romance set in Paris. A nice change from all the thrillers and horror movies filmed over here.”
“Maximilian Finn, I knew you were a hopeless romantic.”
“Yes, I’m one of those men who actually have a heart.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Is Mr. King around?” he asks after a short silence.
“No, he must be in a meeting,” I lie.
“Weird, that wasn’t on the schedule. Is everything okay? Between you two, I mean…”
His inquisitive gaze sends a shiver down my spine.
Does he know? How does he know?
