The private stretch of beach attached to the tower felt almost unreal. White sand, clear water, umbrellas in neat rows with cushioned lounges beneath them. Staff hovered at polite distances. Security watched from shaded perches. No camerashovered in the air. Veil drones weren’t permitted on this section of coastline.
I lay back on one of the loungers. Waves rolled in gentle rhythms. Children’s laughter drifted from further down the sand. Somewhere behind me, a blender whirred in a bar.
I must have closed my eyes, because the next thing that pulled me back was a shadow.
For a second I assumed a staff member had come to ask if I wanted a drink. I stayed still, waiting for a polite cough.
“Baby, you’d better have put sunscreen on, Or Daddy’s going to be very disappointed.”
My heart stopped.
Breath locked hard enough in my chest that I almost sat up on reflex. Slowly, I pushed my sunglasses down my nose and looked up.
Vince stood over me.
Suit pants. Black belt. The kind of shoes that didn’t belong on a beach. His shirt was gone; in its place, a black tank clung him. His tattoos were stupidly distracting.
His eyes met mine, and the rest of the world went blurred.
“Up,” he said. “You and I need to talk.”
37
Madeline
“I’m not getting up,” The words came out flatter than I intended. My fingers tightened on the edge of the lounger to stop shaking.
He lifted a brow. “That so.”
“I’m busy.”
“Lying on a chair on a beach.”
“Exactly.” My sunglasses slipped lower. I pushed them back up like they were armour. “I have a very full schedule. Sunshine. People. I plan to be in public all day.”
“You planning your witness list?” He planted his feet wider in the sand, blocking more light. As if he knew I hadn’t applied sunscreen. “Think crowds are going to save you, angel?”
“This isn’t about saving me. I just think if we’re going to debrief the end of… whatever we were, maybe we do it another day. After I stop feeling like my chest is full of glass.”
“We’re not debriefing the end of anything.”
“That’s what couples do.” A humourless laugh scraped out of me. “Post-mortems.”
“We’re not dead. We’re not even bleeding. You’re scared and exhausted and hiding. That’s not the same thing.”
“I told you last night. It’s over.”
He shook his head once. “You said words on a call from another man’s house. I don’t accept them.”
“This is not a negotiation, Vince.”
“Everything is a negotiation. We are not over. One of us isn’t changing that, and it’s not me.”
Anger surfaced under the exhaustion. “You can’t just veto a breakup.”
“You don’t get to burn us down because you’re terrified of a future that hasn’t happened yet.”
“I know exactly how this ends. I get near you again, I fall deeper, and one day you decide you can’t balance me with the city. You flip that fuse or switch or whatever you want to call it, and I’m left… wrecked. I can’t keep gambling like that.”
