‘That doesn’t make it okay. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I can’t even imagine.’
I swallow. My throat feels tight as I struggle to know what to say. Difficult conversations aren’t my strong point.
‘It’s fine. Old news.’
The next dozen miles pass in silence until I build up the courage to break through the tension.
‘I want to thank you for playing your part with my family. I didn’t deserve your kindness. And for everything else.’
‘Next time you need help, maybe just ask. It’ll be simpler that way.’
Next time…
I feel like that should be positive, but there’s a hitch in his voice that makes it sound more like an ending than a beginning.
‘At least Eddie won’t be a problem,’ he says. ‘No big red wedding for the two of you.’
‘His family are going to be furious if they ever find out what happened.’
‘If I believe anyone can keep the truth under wraps, it’s your family.’ He’s not unkind when he says it, more matter-of-fact.
I let out a breath. ‘They’re very good at what they do. Everyone but me. I couldn’t even kill Eddie, the one person I hated more than anyone. And he deserved to die.’
‘I’m not sorry he died,’ Roman admits.
‘Me either, so can I count on you not to call the police the minute we get home?’
‘Yes.’
‘And…Thank you for the pity sex.’
He raises a brow. ‘It wasn’t pity.’
I give him a look. ‘Sure. You’re a liar, Roman. A very attractive liar. An actual Adonis. Like someone chiselled you out of marble and magicked you into being. And I’m—’ I gesture at myself, one hand briefly leaving the wheel. ‘Whatever.’
‘Whatever?’ he repeats.
‘A woman who has to kidnap a wedding date and can’t even kill the bad guys.’
‘Maggie,’ he says dryly, ‘not killing people is generally seen as a positive trait.’
‘Not in my world.’
‘Your world is out of sync with normality. You just need to tell your dad no. You’re an adult, he can’t make you do anything.’
And despite all the crazy things that I’ve done in the past few days, the idea of standing up to my dad tops the lot.
THIRTY-FOUR
ROMAN
London hits differentlyafter a few days away.
The buildings press in around the car, lights and people everywhere. Traffic is slow, having hit the rush hour.
By the time we pull in, I’m exhausted, and Maggie looks just as tired.
We climb the stairs to Maggie’s flat together, our bags bumping against our legs, both of us a bit wobbly. There’s a strange limbo between us. like we’re walking through the last few frames of a film before the credits roll. The adrenaline of the last few days has drained away. I feel like someone has reached into me and scooped out my innards like I’m a fucking pumpkin.
