“But he didn’t.” I was sure now that I wasn’t imagining the tears. She wiped her face with the back of her hand before they could fall, but not before I saw them. “I sprayed bathroom cleaner at his face before anything could happen, and then I ran away.”
I shook my head. “How can you stay so calm?”
“Maybe because I’ve gotten used to situations like this. When you’re a woman living alone on the streets, you’re confronted with this kind of thing all the time.”
“Fuck, Kate.”
I rubbed my forehead and felt the knot deep in my gut grow even tighter. I hated that Mr. Fleming had done this to Kate. And I hated even more that a part of Kate had resigned herself to being treated so terribly, with so much disrespect. No one should have to put up with shit like that and get used to it. But it was over now. I would make sure she never got into another situation like it. From now on, I would look after her.
“Can I come to you?”
Kate blinked. “What? Why?”
“I want to be there for you in person, not just on a video call.”
She hesitated then nodded. “OK.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I promised, before ending our call.
I leapt out of bed and got dressed, then hurried down the corridor to the lifts. The entire hotel seemed to be asleep. I didn’t encounter a single person in the corridors, not stopping until I reached Kate’s door. The door swung open before I could even lift my hand to ring the bell, and there she was, standing right in front of me. Kate. My beautiful, brave Kate, who had endured more in the last year than most people had to in an entire lifetime.
She was wearing a shirt that was several sizes too large, emblazoned with The Darlington logo. Her legs were bare except for socks, and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Even now, she was still trying to be strong. I wanted to hug her. Desperately. Perhaps more than I’d ever wanted anything before. But I also didn’t want to scare her off.
Kate opened her mouth as if to speak, but all that came out of her mouth was a pitiful sound that broke my heart. She pressed her lips together, struggling to compose herself, but she’d been fighting for too long and had no strength left. She whimpered again, and I felt I had no choice but to give in to my urge. I took a cautious step towards her, and when she didn’t flinch away, I pulled her into my arms, creating a space for her where she didn’t have to be strong. A space where she didn’t need walls for protection, because I was her wall. She gasped for air—and then she began to cry, as if she’d been waiting to finally let go.
28
The conference was a shitshow, but holy fuck. How hot is Henry? What about a topless calendar for a good cause?
I’d buy it. Anyone else?
Online comment by Anna_red02
Kate
Henry held me as I broke down and shed all the tears I’d held back since this afternoon, when I’d stormed out of Mr. Fleming’s room. Or maybe even longer than that. I’d cried only two or three times the past few months, most recently in the bathtub on my first night at The Darlington. But it was different today. More intense. In the past, I’d been very careful about which feelings I allowed myself to feel, worried that the wrong ones might make me seem weak and defenceless. But in the safety of Henry’s arms, suddenly none of that mattered anymore.
“Everything will be fine,” he whispered into my ear.
He held me so tight it felt like he’d made it his mission to squeeze the pain of the past few months out of me. I couldn’t remember when I’d last felt as secure with another person as I did with Henry. Perhaps that was the reason I’d poured my heart out tohim. Since we’d met, he hadn’t dismissed my feelings once. He had validated them instead. His lips brushed my forehead consolingly as I sobbed in his arms. It was probably just a friendly gesture, but his mouth on my skin and his arms around me felt unbelievably good. For a brief moment, I gave in to the illusion that there could be something more between us, despite our differences.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into Henry’s chest when I was finally capable of speaking again. He steered us into my room as I cried, to keep the entire hotel from witnessing my breakdown.
“You have nothing to apologise for.” His hands were still on me, ready to pull me back into his arms at a moment’s notice.
“I cried all over you,” I remarked, pointing to the spots on his shirt where my tears had soaked into the fabric. I ran a finger over them, as if I could wipe them away. Now that I was regaining my composure, I was a little embarrassed by how I’d lost control.
“Don’t worry. It’ll dry.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. It was a tender, caring gesture that eased some of the shame I had felt. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” I replied. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down like that.”
“You didn’t, Peach.”
I shook my head, and he looked disappointed. I hated nicknames, but I loved that he wasn’t giving up on finding the right one for me. Encouraged, I raised my head. “Will you stay for a bit?”
“If you want me to...”
I nodded and reached for his hand, guiding him to the bed. I didn’t want him to sit on the floor again. I felt a brief resistance when I pulled him onto the mattress next to me, but it didn’t last long. We crawled under the covers together, and I rolled onto my side to look at Henry. The only light in the room came from thereading lamp, and it cut through the dark to trace harsh edges and soft contours onto his face. A flutter stirred in my chest when I realised I was lying in bed with one of the most handsome men in London. My own bloodshot eyes and swollen features were probably no pretty sight, but that didn’t stop Henry from giving me his undivided attention.
