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CHAPTER TWELVE
SHEHADTOLDherself she wouldn’t ask, but as they lay on the rooftop terrace of one of the turrets, limbs entwined, the softest blanket beneath them, a spider’s web of stars twinkling against the black velvet of the dawn sky, Lucinda was driven to throw caution to the wind. She kept her head pressed to Thirio’s chest, listening to the steady, heavy thudding of his heart, as her finger chased the texture of his chest, feeling every knot.
‘Was this from the accident?’
It was impossible not to feel how he stiffened, his body radiating tension.
‘You don’t have to answer. I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘Your curiosity is natural,’ came his clipped, closed-off response. And it was such a harsh reminder of the way he’d been that first day they met that she felt as though she were teetering on the edge of a very tall building. She tried to steady her breathing but the truth was, after the intimacies they’d shared, and the way she’d relaxed with him over these past two days, going back to that cold, closed-off man was the last thing she wanted.
‘But you don’t want to talk about it.’ Already, Lucinda was pulling her barriers back into place, telling herself she didn’t care if he rejected her, because he wasn’t the first person. But the truth was, her heart was heavy and she couldn’t imagine being in the same room with Thirio and having him treat her with the coldness of a stranger.
‘No.’ The word was gruff, torn from his chest. ‘But as I said, your curiosity is natural.’
She stayed very still.
‘It wasn’t an accident.’ The words dropped like stone between them.
They made no sense. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The night my parents died. It was no accident.’
‘I’ve read the papers. They all say—’
‘My parents were very rich, with powerful friends. They made sure the fire was reported in a specific way. But it was not an accident.’
She kept her ear to his chest, running her fingers over the flesh again, slower, as though she could heal his hurt and heart with her touch. ‘Then what happened?’
‘Are you sure you want to know?’
‘Only if you want to tell me.’
He expelled another deep breath and this time, she pushed up to look at him.
‘It is not a matter of wanting to tell you,’ he said after a long pause. ‘But it is a part of who I am. Somehow, I don’t mind you knowing, even when it will change everything.’
She waited, without speaking.
‘It was the night before my father’s birthday. I should have stayed home—my mother begged me not to go out. But that was what I did back then. Pointless, indulgent, selfish existence. I partied as though there were no tomorrow. I blew through tens of thousands of dollars a night. I drank too much, had indiscriminate sex, shallow friendships. I had no responsibilities and used to think I was glad.’
‘I can’t imagine you ever behaving like that.’
‘I am not the same as I was then.’
‘No.’ This she’d already gathered.
‘I came home in the early hours of the morning, wasted and famished. I decided to cook some bacon and set the stove going, emptying my pockets out on the bench beside it. I went upstairs to take a shower, then fell asleep. The next thing I knew, the earth beneath me was shaking.’ He spoke without stopping, the words tripping over each other to get out, as though he had to relive them in this order, without a break, now that he’d started. ‘There had been an explosion. It woke me, and Evie. I stumbled downstairs, to find the whole level engulfed in flames. I could hear my mother crying out. She was still alive. I just had to get to her. But there was Evie, too, and in that moment, I needed to make a decision. Evie was terrified of fire. She was crying upstairs. I ran back and got her, carrying her out, before returning to my parents. I was still drunk, Lucinda. I wasn’t thinking straight, it was instincts alone that were making me act. I ran into the fire, a shirt wrapped around my face, trying to get to them. A beam fell on me. I was trapped, flames were everywhere, but somehow, I managed to push it off me and keep going. But there was too much fire. By the time I got to their room, it was hotter than the sun. I couldn’t go in. I wanted to. Even now, recounting this to you, I wonder if it was really so bad. If I couldn’t have pushed through and got to them. But they were already dead. I will never forget the sight of my mother on the ground, Lucinda. And all because I had to go out and get hammered, like every other night of my pointless goddamned life.’
‘Oh, Thirio.’ Her cheeks were wet. ‘That’s still an accident.’
‘I put my cigarette lighter on the edge of the stove. I basically created a bomb. Yes, it was an accident, but it was also entirely my fault. This was preventable.’
Sadness welled in her chest, for so many reasons. ‘And all this time, you’ve lived with this guilt?’ she asked, pushing up so she could see him better. He stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the stars above them. ‘All this time you’ve blamed yourself?’
‘Who else is to blame?’
She shook her head. ‘You didn’t mean to cause the fire. Accidents happen.’
