“How did you see me?”
“There are cameras everywhere in this place Ari. Well, not everywhere. Not in the changing rooms, of course, but most entrances and exits are covered by CCTV, plus everywhere that they are legally allowed.”
“You’re a pinnacle of safety, huh?”
“This place is my baby, Arianna. Got to keep her running smooth.”
Chapter 17
I’ve showered and dressed in comfortable jeans and a tee. I’ve done away with any makeup I had on and I’ve let my hair fall freely after having it knotted on the top of my head for the most part of the day. Denham surprises me with a steak dinner he has cooked for us. We sit at the table in Denham’s apartment surrounded by candles and gentle music in the background, creating a soft light and a mood to match.
“So, what will you do tomorrow?” Denham asks.
“I’m not sure. I only have a few days before I start working and there are lots of things I need to do while I still have time to do them.”
“Like what?”
“I…” I hesitate before I speak, knowing that what I’m about to say might change the relaxed mood. “I think I’d like to see my mom and…”
“And what?” he asks curiously, placing his knife and fork down on his plate and giving me his full attention, making it a little harder for me to speak.
“I’m going to see if I can get in touch with Aaron…”
He picks up his napkin, wipes his mouth, then places it carefully back down. “I don’t want you to,” he says flatly.
“Please don’t be like that. We’ve talked about this before. I know you don’t want me to, but you know I need to. I just don’t understand everything. I’ve been going over and over it in my head, trying to piece it all together, and I can’t. It all seems so unlike him.”
“There’s obviously things that you don’t know about your so-called husband. Maybe he’s put on a front all this time and he’s not the person you think he is,” he states. I don’t miss the clipped way he speaks. “After all, you fooled him pretty well. Don’t you think he could have done the same to you?”
I get up from the table, my chair scraping on the hardwood floor as I stand. I go to the kitchen, drop my plate in the sink and fumble around in the cabinet to find a glass, then pour a large neat vodka, knocking it back in one. It slides down my throat then burns, making my eyes water. I don’t know why his words have angered me so much, he’s only speaking the truth, but Aaron and I are not the same. I lied to him to protect myself. I had to. I didn’t have a choice. But it seems he lied to me for his own personal gain. It makes me question all the good things I thought about him in the time that I spent with him. It makes me question everything. So much so that I’m not sure if I feel dizzy from the quick vodka I’ve just tossed down my throat or the ball of conflicting thoughts whizzing around my head.
Denham comes to stand next to me and takes the glass from my hand. He places it gently on the countertop, then turns me into him. His touch calms my racing mind, and I bury my head into his chest as he strokes my hair. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive,” he admits. “I know you didn’t have a choice.”
“I couldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t have understood. It was too big a secret to let out.”
“I know,” he soothes.
“I’m fed up feeling like I’ve been the bad one in all of this. I feel like I’m the one in the wrong because I lied to him about who I was, when the truth is that he has lied too.” I break away from Denham and pace the expanse of the room while things start to slot into place in my head. “But he’s a good person, deep down, you know? He must be in trouble. I knew something wasn’t right.”
I’m talking aloud but more to myself than Denham. “He was moody. I knew it wasn’t right, and I didn’t do anything. I could have done something. Everything could have been different. Why does he need the money so badly? What kind of trouble could he possibly have gotten himself into?”
Denham is sitting on the couch, with his elbows propped on his knees, chin resting in his hands as he lets me rant, giving me time. It’s the first time he’s let my mouth run away with me without trying to stop it with a kiss.
“You’re not kissing me.”
“No.” His simple answer sends a twinge of pain through my heart.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “You need to work things through in your head, and getting it all out seems the best way on this occasion,” he says sadly. He’s still thinking about what’s best for me but his tone is flat and I can tell he’s unhappy.
“What’s going on inyourhead?” I lower my voice. “You seem distant all of a sudden.”
He stands and closes the distance between us, wrapping me in the comfort and safety of his arms. I feel my body melt into his. It would seem that he radiates a potent feeling of calm which washes over me and renders me unable to think of anything else. “I think that’s enough talking for one night, don’t you?”
“Oh no, you don’t,” I say, poking him in the chest. “Out with it…”
“I’m glad that things have happened this way,” he states. I stiffen, not understanding why anyone would be glad of the situation I’ve been in.
