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Pushing herself to her feet, she shook her head. ‘You know what is really sad? I think you actually believe that. You’re so deluded by your power you either don’t know or don’t care what’s true and what isn’t. As long as you get what you want, you’ll do or say anything.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I would prefer it if you didn’t speak to me like that in my home, in front of my staff.’
‘Well, I’d prefer it if you didn’t speak to me at all.’
She flung the words at him, wishing they were the beautiful, intricately patterned porcelain cups and saucers on the table. Instantly, she regretted it.
Maybe he could sense her panic, or perhaps he didn’t like the hiss in her voice, but Archie began pushing against her arms.
‘It’s okay, Buttons,’ she whispered, trying to reassure him.
But it was too late. Bending away from her, he lunged towards Charlie across the table. Charlie caught him, and she watched, mute with remorse, as Archie curled his small arms around his brother’s neck like the toy monkey he was clutching.
It was what she’d dreaded happening most of all—and now she had made it happen.
Pain knifing her chest, she spun away and began walking blindly towards the lush, flower-filled garden. Vast pine trees created shady pathways, and within minutes she could no longer see the house. Without the rush of adrenaline her feet began to stumble and slow, and she stopped in a light-dappled clearing.
Through the trees she could see stripes of blue ocean. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers and the tang of salt and it was quiet—even quieter than the house. Suddenly she had never felt more alone.
Her eyes blurred with tears. She missed Della so much. Her sister had always made her feel safe and strong. Not small and stupid.
A twig snapped behind her and, turning, she felt her breath stumble in her throat.
Charlie was standing at the edge of the path.
‘Dora—’
‘Where’s Archie?’
‘He’s fine. Shengyi is reading him a story.’ He paused. ‘Look, Dora—’
‘Why are you here? You’ve got what you wanted so just leave me alone.’
‘You think this is what I want?’ Frowning, he walked swiftly towards her. ‘I’m trying to help—’
‘Yourself,’ she interrupted shakily. ‘Not me. You’re just trying to make me look useless so you can take Archie away from me.’
‘I’m not.’
As she started to turn, he caught her arms.
‘Maybe before that was true. But not now. Not since I’ve seen how much he needs you.’
His words echoed dully in the sunlight, and she shook her head. ‘That’s not true.’
It was the other way around: she needed him.
Only at some point in the future there were going to be weeks, maybe even months, when Archie would be here in Macau and she would be alone.
Yes, she was his guardian at the moment, so she could simply refuse to let Archie see his family here. But that would be wrong...selfish.
A tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, and then another. ‘He puts up with me because I’m all he’s got. But he’s not happy.’
She pushed against Charlie’s chest, slamming the flats of her hands against the solid pectoral muscles, directing her anger at him.
Only he wasn’t to blame.
A sob caught in her throat as her hands stilled. ‘And that’s my fault.’
