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Where there was a hanging sense of misery over us all, there’s now hope.
Allie’s coming back.
It doesn’t mean she’s okay with what happened. It doesn’t mean she has feelings for us. It doesn’t mean she’d ever want what we’ve discussed between us all. But it does mean we’ll have a chance to pitch for what we want. Maybe we’ll strike out. Maybe we’ll hit a home run.
But whatever happens, there are going to be a lot of hurdles to jump to make it work.
For the first time in my life, I’m ready to face the hurdles head on.
44
ALLIE
As we pull into the driveway of the beach house, my heart picks up in a race of anticipation and anxiety. All the way, Russell has been steering the subject of conversation away from what’s going to happen when we walk through the door, not because he doesn’t want to face up to it, but because he’s worried I’ll decide to turn around.
I can’t resent him for delaying the fallout until he’s just one of ten. I can’t resent him mostly because he opened up about the challenges he’s faced in his own life. They put everything into perspective. A few photos and the loss of a job doesn’t come anywhere near the trauma of losing friends and carrying out orders that haunt you. It doesn’t touch the kind of life and death circumstances he’s trying to put behind him.
“It’s going to be okay.” Russell rests his hand on my knee, a heavy and solid reassurance.
“Let's just get this over with, okay?”
He nods and throws the car door open as I grab my purse and exit the vehicle. In the trunk, my suitcase and his rest side by side. I didn’t want to bring mine, but he insisted. Too weakened and exhausted, I let him haul it from my apartment. But it will remain outside because I’m not staying for longer than it takes to hear Oliver out and have my chance to air my feelings.
Russell rings the bell, and Stefan is the one to open the front door. His green eyes find me, and worry fills their depths. I wish I could wear sunglasses inside so I don’t have to face these men with all my grief on show. No matter how many eye drops I used, my eyes are still red veined and swollen.
I follow Russell inside, sticking close to his back so he forms a wall in front of me. Everyone is seated on the leather sofas, showered and dressed in their nicest clothes. The house is impeccably tidy and smells of fresh cleaning products. If I wasn’t so somber, I’d smile at the effort they’ve made for me.
“Allie,” Jonas says. “It’s good to see you.”
It’s good to see him…well, it’s good to see all of them apart from Oliver. He’s the one who lied and manipulated. He’s the one who caused this catastrophic end to what was the best week of my life.
Oliver stands, his hair slicked back, dark circles ringing his eyes and his usually well-trimmed beard unkempt. His shirt is crumpled, and his slacks need ironing. The straightness of his posture is absent, replaced by shoulders that slump and arms that hang loose at his sides.
“Take a seat.” Stefan ushers me with an outstretched hand to an empty space across from Oliver and next to Tom. Even though every fiber of my being is screaming at me to run out the door, get back in the car and leave again for good, I force myself to sit, smoothing my pants over my knees.
“I’m not sure why I’m here.” I mean to address them all, but really, I’m focused on my fingers that are twisting in my lap.
“Oliver has something he wants to say, and after, we all have something to ask you.”
I don’t want to look at Oliver at all. The betrayal I feel is like a knife in my heart, but I force myself because I want him to see the pain he’s caused me. When our eyes meet, he winces. Good. Let him feel even half of my grief and anger.
“When I arranged this assignment, it’s because my uncle advised me to look for a replacement for Kirsty. I’m not the kind of man who believes in coming up with twenty questions to ask in a stark interview room. I wanted to see you in action. I wanted to understand your process and see if you’d be capable of taking over from Kirsty and doing something revolutionary with the magazine. Readership has been dropping. Competitors are taking a greater market share. We need to do something.”
“So you came here under false pretenses?”
“I came here to participate in your assignment. My views would be as valid as anyone else’s here. As you know, I didn’t lie about my qualifications to take part in this.”
“Why didn’t you withdraw when you saw the direction things were going?” I ask. “Why did you carry on…why did you…?” I trail off, not able to finish the sentence with ‘fuck me’ without breaking down. I tip up my chin, gritting my teeth, battling to hold back tears.
“I wanted to. I really did, but Kirsty knew I was here. I didn’t have any legitimate reason to leave. I tried to steer the group in a different direction…I made excuses to you to leave…but then things started to spiral. And then…” He touches his cuff, tugging it over his wrist. “Then I wanted you, and I wanted to be a man who could make you believe in yourself. It felt like I had a chance to encourage you.”
“And fuck me.”
He hangs his head, bringing his hand to cover his face. “Look. I know I messed up. I know I hid a lot from you, and you are right to be mad.”
He stops there, flicking his chestnut eyes up to meet mine. I can hear the ‘but’ that’s hanging between us, which surprisingly, he doesn't say.
“And now, what happens, Oliver? You wanted me to take over the magazine, but I won’t be able to now. Even if you believe I’m good enough, everyone will think it’s because we fucked.”
