“Who told you?” I whisper.
He runs a hand down my back, his amber eyes never leaving mine. “Your friend Mark. He sent me a text.”
I feel him reach into his pocket; he pulls out his phone and tilts the screen toward me.
His contact is saved asMark Benoit (Cecilia’s Brother)— which makes me let out a laugh—before I read the message:
Your Cecilia needs you. This is the address. She’ll tell you whatever she chooses once you’re there.
“After that, I called him,” Alexander says. “I had to make sure nothing had happened to you. When he told me you were physically safe, I could finally focus on getting here.”
His thumb brushes gently over my hand as he lowers the phone.
I smile, and then something strikes me. “How did he even have your number? I never gave it to him.”
Alexander lets out a soft laugh.
“It didn’t even cross my mind to ask him, but... based on what you’ve told me about his talent? I doubt it was difficult for him to find it.”
I smile again. That was a ridiculous question.
Alexander intertwines his fingers with mine and lifts my left wrist to his lips. My eyes flutter shut at the warmth of his kiss.
“Let me take you home,” he murmurs.
I nod. And I let him.
Alexander parks in front of my house, and we sit in silence for a moment. I asked him to bring me here, not to the penthouse, even though it’s closer to the hospital, because I didn’t want to risk running into Colin again.
Especially not with Alicia sleeping there tonight. Colin came to get her after I let him know I was heading to the hospital and didn’t know when I’d be back. I just didn’t want Alicia there with me.
I turn to Alexander. “Will you come in with me?” I ask.
He smiles as he gets out of the car and walks around to open my door. He keeps his arm around me all the way to the front door, and he doesn’t let go even after we step inside.
I lace my fingers with his and lead him to my bedroom.
The moment he walks in, his eyes go straight to the canvas. A smile forms on his face.
When he turns back to me, I whisper, “I know you must have questions.”
Alexander cups my cheeks, his thumbs brushing gently along my jaw. “You don’t have to tell me anything unless you want to, or until you’re ready.”
“I have to. I don’t want this sitting in my mind when I wake up tomorrow.”
He nods. He kisses my forehead, then the tip of my nose, and finally my lips. “Then tell me.”
I start to take off my coat, but he helps me. Then he removes his own and lays both neatly over the back of the armchair beside my desk.
I slip off my ballet flats and sit on the bed, calling him over.
Alexander sits beside me and takes my hand, lacing our fingers tightly as if he’s holding every part of me, keeping me from drifting away.
He waits, without pressure, without expectation.
I tell him everything. Starting with Colin’s affair and every detail he didn’t know. And strangely enough, that part is the easiest. It doesn’t hurt the way it used to. It feels like phantom pain that once consumed me, but no longer has any power over me. Now it’s just a memory of hurt, rather than hurt itself.
But when I reach the part about how one of my father’s affairs, more than sixteen years ago, was the beginning of all of this... that’s when I break.
