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“You can’t get angry at me for worrying about him.”
“He’s not part of your life anymore.”
“And who’s fault is that? You’re forgetting I didn’t want him out of my life – you forced it without talking to me. He was a big part of my life, and I can’t help but miss him.”
Seven months have passed since Elliot took his last breath, yet he continues to present a problem in our lives.
“Do you want him back? Are you still in love with him?”
She lets out a long groan. “I never said that!”
“Thenwhat, Savannah?“ I bark.
“I want to know he’s okay!”
“I’ve given you that!” I shout just as loud.
Savannah doesn’t say anything. I watch her shoulders rise and fall as she breathes in and out. She doesn’t divert her gaze from me. Her mouth doesn’t move, but her demeanour says it all.
I don’t believe you.
When she speaks, her voice is lower and her tone softer. “We’re sat here in our untouchable mansion with our fancy china and crystal glasses. We are bad people, Xavier. We’vehurtso many people. We’ve taken hearts and smashed them to smithereens. All in the name of what?”
“Love,” I answer without hesitation.
My answer disappoints her. “Love shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t be at the cost of others. We’re selfishly sitting with diamonds around our necks. It’s selfish that we dined in a fancy restaurant to celebrate your birthday like a happy family, as though we never stole that dream from Emery. It’s selfish that we decorated this god-forsaken house like Santa’s grotto, forgetting that it was Emery’s favourite thing to do. It’s selfish that we’re building memories while Elliot’s family relive the ones they have left of him.” She stands up and tucks her chair in. “I won’t stop until I find Elliot.”
One of the first things I loved about Savannah was her determination. However, it’s become a nuisance.
“I think you’ve forgotten all the wrong he did you. Gambling, debt, money borrowing and threats. Logic doesn’t exist when it comes to him.”
“I lead with my heart, not my head, because real life isn’t a game of chess.”
Ray settles into the couch opposite me. His living room is starkly different to mine, with wood furnishing and a lived-in feel. In a rare occurrence, he’s traded his formal wear for a t-shirt and jeans.
“What did you need?”
I lean back into my seat and sigh. “How did you know I needed something?”
“There’s no way you trekked it to my house unless you needed something.”
He’s right – I need something, and he’s the only one who can give it. The Elliot Hunter situation needs to be put to bed.
“The ex. Find him.”
He doesn’t query whose ex I’m referring to. He sips his whiskey and then places it down on the coffee table without using a coaster. The glass is going to leave a pesky ring on the surface.
“Why?”
I look away from the drink to him. “Because she asked.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Why me?”
I force the next few words out because it kills me to admit it. “She trusts you.”
Something in those three words has the clogs turning in his brain. He doesn’t say anything. The only sound is the ticking of his clock on the wall.
“Why doesn’t she trust you? It would make more sense for her to mistrust me after her father.”
