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He looks down at my hand. And the welts on my wrist. “You also can’t let someone else will do the honors. It has to come from you. You need to get in front of the problem, not wait to see if it explodes.”
I laugh to myself. I don’t see what other option I have if I want to keep her. I can’t getin frontof this problem. I sigh. “I need you to pick her up for work tomorrow,” I say, going to my mobile and texting my regular car valet guy.
“No, Jesse. That is not the answer to your problems—me chaperoning Ava to work.”
And all the places in between while I can’t be with her.Or, actually, when she won’tletme be with her. “Her car’s being cleaned,” I say, holding up my phone. “Nothing more.”
“You really are a dick.”
My phone dings a message. Car clean confirmed. Perfect. Problem is, I can’t have her car cleaned every day. And the reality is, Van Der Haus could call Ava anytime and stir the shit. I can’t stop that. But something tells me he might milk this. Leave me sweating. Have fun with it.Payback.
Walking to the door, John looks back. “She loves you. You drive her mad, but she loves you.”
“And what if she stops loving me?” I ask, hearing the doubt in my voice.
“People can’t just stop loving, Jesse,” he says, his voice unusually soft. “It’s human nature. It’s also your saving grace.” He leaves, and I reach for my chest, rubbing at the dull ache there. I never anticipated I’d ever feel the pain of true love again. And with the pain of true love comes the potential pain of losing that love. The thought is disheartening. It’s also warranted. Because I’ve lost so many times.
I get up and head upstairs to the extension, walking through the rooms, still shells, poking at the beams, hanging from them, looking out of the windows. It’s a beautiful view out onto the front grounds of my manor. The circular driveway. The tree-lined drive that disappears into the distance. The luscious green lawns that stretch for miles.
But people don’t come here for the view. No one will look out of these windows and admire their surroundings. There will be curtains up soon, lavish ones, that will block out the world beyond this glass. Becausethatis why people come here.
My phone rings, waking me from my contemplations, and I laugh lightly when I see the screen. “Too late, Freja,” I say quietly, answering as I head back downstairs.
“You called?” she says.
“Have you told Mikael about...” I stall, wondering how to put it. We didn’t really fuck. I barely had my dick inside her for two seconds. But it was still inside her.
“You bending me over the couch in your office a couple of weeks ago?”
My teeth grind. “Yes.”
“It may have come up.”
I exhale, my body deflating. It won’t take long for Mikael to figure there’s a crossover. “You’re a bitter woman, Freja.”
“Jesse, I didn’t tell him out of spite for you.”
“Sure.” I laugh. “Make sure I don’t see you again, Freja.”
“You won’t. I’m back in Denmark, and I don’t plan on coming back to London for a while.”
I hang up and take the steps down to the driveway on heavy feet, sliding into my Aston, hoping to snap out of this low mood on my way home. It’s been a long day, a long fucking week, and I’m only halfway through it. I pull off at an uncharacteristically steady rate, rolling down the driveway, wondering if I’m subconsciously giving myself extra time to pull myself around with a leisurely drive home rather than a hair-raising race to Lusso.
I pass through the gates and stop at the junction of the main road, checking left and right, letting a few cars pass. A BMW slows toward the entrance, indicating to pull into The Manor, so I edge out, ready to pull off. But it doesn’t turn, picking up speed and coming straight at me, it’s indicator still flashing to turn. “Fuck!” I slam my foot on the brake, bracing my arms against the wheel, flinching, waiting for impact. It misses the nose of my car by a whisker. “Fucking idiot,” I hiss, banging my horn. I throw daggers at the driver as he sails past, his attention quickly turning away from The Manor and pointing forward.
“For fuck’s sake,” I murmur to myself, slamming down on the accelerator and pulling out, fishtailing down the road. I won’t have to worry about Ava leaving me if I’m fucking dead. I reach for the screen on the dash and put on some music. Just the radio. Just a bit of background noise to drown out my miserable thoughts.
It doesn’t work.
Love hurts.
But losing it is excruciating.
22
Restingagainst the back wall of the elevator, I gaze up at the ceiling, my hands sunk into my trouser pockets, my body heavy, my heart beating slow and steady, but it hurts. It hurts so much. She’s here, Clive confirmed as I passed through the lobby, but I feel no less reassured. Van Der Haus is a ticking fucking time bomb waiting to go off.
The doors open, seeming to slide as slowly as my feet want to work, and I trudge to the door, letting myself in. The moment I lift my eyes, I see her. She’s standing on the stairs, her feet bare, her arms full of calla lilies. And even though I know she’s had a rough day, she looks fresh. Perfect. I know I look anything but, and I feel less than that.Inadequate.Unworthy. Ava is without one demon, and here I am loaded with the bastards. The best thing I could do is walk away. Save her the heartache that I’m guaranteed to cause her. Slip back into the shadows with a bottle of vodka and leave her to carry on with her young, healthy life with a man who is as good as she is. I feel my muscles come to life, tightening at the thought. I’m unsure about so much, but one thing I can never question is the level of love I have for this woman. Forever. That has to count for something.
