“Irrelevant.”
“Please, take them. I’m headed out of the country tomorrow for the next two weeks, and they’ll be wasted in my flat,” Aidan tries, offering the tulip arrangement once again.
With a reluctant sigh, I take them this time, because I feel sorry for the flowers, and not for him. “Where are you going?”
“Italy.”
I just nod, studying the flowers. One of our favorite getaways. Last year, Aidan thought a chance of scenery would help me deal with my grief.
“So, you’re seeing a duke now?” Aidan asks carefully.
“I’m not telling you anything about who I might or might not be seeing, Aidan. It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
“Are you sure? I can’t imagine that’s what you really want…”
“Yeah. That’s what I really want.”
We consider each other in a stalemate. Miles steps closer to Aidan, advising him it’s time to go. My chest is tight. It’s hard to remember how I was in love with Aidan once. Especially after he sold me out so badly.
A couple of moments later, Ethan’s black sedan pulls up in front of the building. Aidan gives me a curt nod, followed by a quick glance at Ethan as he gets out of his car.
Ethan looks at him in surprise, then at me with the armful of tulips. “Am I interrupting something?” he asks carefully.
“Aidan was just leaving.” I stare Aidan down until he flinches. Good. “An unauthorized rendezvous.”
“Nice to see you, Ethan. Bye, Theo.” At last, Aidan turns to walk down the cobbled lane in front of the mews houses and buildings. Ethan watches him leave too, a question in his eyes when he finally turns to me.
Chapter Forty-Five
Giving my best Neanderthal grunt, I pivot on my heel and beeline back into the sanctuary of the workshop. I set down the tulips at the end of the broad table. They look spectacular in a range of red, purple, and pink. Ethan and Miles trail me, and Ethan shuts the door behind him with the help of a gust of wind rattling the door in its frame. Miles beelines to the kitchen.
Despite the chill of the air, my shoulders ease at the click of the lock, the surety that Aidan’s out—and we’re sealed in, well away from him. Even if I need to do some explaining to Ethan and James, too, for that matter, about why Aidan was here.
All I can say is rubbernecking. I’m unconvinced Aidan truly misses me. I didn’t see it in his eyes, the way he spoke to me. Possibly, he misses being in the society pages and being seen. But more than anything, he wants what he can’t have—precisely because he can’t have me anymore.
Even if the kiss with Edward—Eddie—wasn’t genuine, Aidan doesn’t know it’s a fake arrangement, without any feelings there. And God forbid Aidan finds out about me and Stef together. Which would be the worst—not for me, but what if he starts in on Stef? Or even Eddie? I frown. The situation with Eddie isn’t real, but he’s a good person and doesn’t need Aidan in his business at the very least.
My phone buzzes. I check the message.
I remember about how into unauthorized rendezvous you used to be back when you were fun Ax
“Fucker.” Groaning, I shake my head.
With a deep breath, I finally block Aidan’s number.
God, it feels good. I turn my phone off and pass it to Ethan with a certain finality. “Toss this into the Thames for me. I never want to see it again. Please and thanks.”
“Theodor, what’s going on?” Ethan peers at me with concern.
I give him squinty eyes for the onslaught of my full given name. “There’s no need to be like that. Aidan first, now getting Theodored by you, of all people.”
Reluctantly, Ethan slides my phone into his blazer pocket. “Fine. I’ll keep your phone for the afternoon, but I’m not tossing it into the river.” He perches on the stool opposite me as I resume my spot at the table.
I click my laptop shut and give an overly dramatic sigh. “For the record, he just turned up without warning. Aidan, I mean.”
“I gathered that much, yes. And, perceptively, I also clocked your enthusiasm at seeing Aidan, which is about on par with what he deserves. Forget him. I’m more interested in your trip. How was your mysterious weekend away? With your duke or viscount or earl or whatever.” Ethan waves a hand, summing up the aristocracy in a single movement.
“I… didn’t go away with the duke, actually.” I cough.
