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Chapter 20
Jeffrey ached with sadness in the wake of Charlotte’s departure.
He walked sombrely back towards the ballroom, his shoulders heavy, his hands at his sides. His lips remained thick with the taste of Charlotte’s lips; his chest still felt the curve of her breasts against it. When he reached the doorway of the ballroom, Peter’s eyes found his, even deep in the crowd, and he hustled out to meet him.
“You look as though you just saw a ghost,” Peter said.
Jeffrey sniffed. “I suppose, in a sense, I saw something that changed everything else.”
“That’s quite cryptic,” Peter said. “Would you like to have another drink with me? Talk about it?”
Jeffrey heaved a sigh. “A single drink. Then, I shall leave.”
“Did you not just arrive?” Peter asked as they meandered back towards the table, on which several glasses of wine glowed with the light of the chandelier on high.
“A man has to know when to take his leave,” Jeffrey said sombrely. “And in the wake of what’s just occurred, I find it nearly impossible to remain amid all these unfortunate creatures.”
“You always had such a way with words when you wanted to insult people,” Peter said.
Jeffrey strung his fingers through the back of his hair and sipped the first of his wine. “I find it difficult to tell her everything.”
“I assume you mean Charlotte.”
“Of course. I believe she deserves to know everything at this point. We’ve been through enough together, and it’s clear that she won’t drop her hunt for Brooks’ murderer.”
“You’re entrenched in similar storylines with different main characters,” Peter said.
“Something like that. Yes.”
“Why do you want to keep bits of the truth from her?” Peter asked.
“I suppose I find it difficult to trust her. But it’s not because of her, really. It’s because I’ve been away from society for so long, I worry that my instincts aren’t refined any longer. I worry that the world doesn’t abide by the same rules as it did previously.”
“But you must sense something within her. Something that’s changed your behaviour,” Peter said. “I see it reflected in your eyes. You would push yourself toward this reality if you didn’t have so much fear.”
Jeffrey arched his brow. Against his nature, he drummed up a demand for advice.
“What would you do in my position, Peter?”
Peter’s eyes bugged out slightly at the question. Obviously, he wasn’t accustomed to Jeffrey’s sincerity. Jeffrey was grateful that he chose not to point this out.
“I can only pretend to be in your shoes, of course,” Peter said. “I can project, but I can never truly be.”
“Come now. Tell me,” Jeffrey said.
“I can only tell you to continue to try,” Peter said. “And in order to try properly, I believe you must be completely honest with her. Tell her everything. Allow her to see you and the situation in every light.”
“Suppose she decides that she doesn’t want to be involved with me after that?” Jeffrey asked.
Peter shrugged. “I suppose that’s the issue behind everything, in terms of romantic relationships. You’re continually putting yourself out there. You’re continually putting yourself at risk of embarrassment and sadness. But that’s part of the fun, perhaps.”
“It’s quite easy for you to say that from the comfort of your marriage, your happiness …”
“Yes, but it’s not like it was this easy when it all began,” Peter said. “I struggled and fought for her hand. I got here, only because I took risks.”
“I feel as though I wasn’t there for you throughout that time,” Jeffrey breathed. “I was assuredly too arrogant for it, anyway.”
“You’ve had a difficult time of it the past few years,” Peter said. “Don’t think that I haven’t considered this, throughout everything. You lost your brother. You lost your parents. You lost your friends and your home and your entire reality. Now, it’s up to you to build it back—but I’m here to help you through all of it.”
