AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m not trying to fool anyone. Jeez, you’re as bad as Alex.”
“So you’re not fucking Stef?” I ask outright.
“No.”
“And he hasn’t tried it on?”
“No,” she huffs, giving me a little insight into how this whole situation is playing out.
“But you have?”
“Doesn’t matter what I have or haven’t done. He’s not interested.”
“No one told me he was blind,” I mutter.
“He’s not. He’s… He’s a good man, Evie.”
I think back to some of the things Gianna told me about her ex-husband, about the things he’s been through, the guilt he suffers because of what he allowed his boys to experience as well. I also vividly remember her telling me she’d probably always love him.
“I’m sure he is, Blake. Just be careful, yeah?”
She narrows her eyes at me.
“I can handle myself with the likes of Stefanos,” she counters.
“I’m not suggesting you can’t. It’s just…” She raises a brow. “Everything here is complicated. The world they’re a part of, it’s dangerous and—”
“Evie, look at us right now. I know all of this. Just… trust me, yeah?”
“Of course. You know I do.”
She falls quiet, content with my words.
“I really need to pee,” I whisper, mostly to myself in the hope the words spur my body into action.
“You need help?” Blake offers.
“To pee? No, I think I’m good.”
I wait two more seconds before forcing my body into action, flipping the covers off and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.
Before finding my way to the bathroom, I find myself at the curtain-covered window. Suddenly, my need to see the sun is bigger than my need to use the toilet.
Throwing the heavy blackout material aside, warmth washes over my body. It doesn’t fix anything, but it does help, just a little bit.
I take a few moments to appreciate their well-tended garden before I turn around for my first proper look at the room I’m in.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, realisation dawning on me as I scan the photos on the shelves, the framed football shirt hanging on the wall, the couple of barely dressed girls pinned to a board behind a desk.
“We thought you’d want to be in this room if you were given the choice,” Blakely explains.
Being surrounded by all his things, his childhood memories, makes his absence right now that much more painful.
Walking over to one of the photos, I study the two identical boys.
They’re probably seven or eight. They’re wearing different coloured t-shirts, but that’s about where the differences end. It’s almost impossible to tell them apart.
“They’re really quite something, huh?” Blakely asks, her voice closer than I was expecting.
