My head swam, and I looked up at the window over the sink. It was dark outside. The flowers he’d bought me at the market were dead, the vase was slimy, and the water was starting to smell. I should throw them out.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I set the phone face down.Wasit?
It had been. Sort of. I’d grieved with my friends losing their jobs, taking their calls when they’d wanted to talk. That had been tough enough. But nowthis? Knowing Liam had bought my painting for an outrageous amount, and for what—kicks?
Or did he just want tocontainit for me, take away the risk?
He didn’t even ask me. He just did it.
My stomach felt like ice, my thoughts jumbled.
I’d felt so safe with him, like I could finally rely on someone other than myself. It had been so easy, sliding into this life where Liam stepped up, made me believe something solid and lasting was possible. I’d told him things I’d never told anyone… he’d listened when I’d talked about my dad, my mum, and what had happened. When I was with him, I felt like I could finally loosen that tight knot of responsibility that had let me hold things together for Eliza and mefor so long.
But underneath it, I’d always known the sense of ease was borrowed. Even my job—my role at Novexia—was only safe because Liam had decided it should be.
And now, with my painting…
That was all I had left. The only thing that was still completely mine, outside of his influence, his control. That tiny speck of knowledge that no matter what happened, maybe, just maybe, I could still make it in that world, that I could do it myself, that Sebastian might be right, and that my future still belonged to me.
And now he’d taken that awaytoo.
But that was who he was, it was what he did. He took control. I’d been kidding myself to think otherwise.
I wasn’t ready to process this, let alone talk about it. What could I even say, anyway? I reached for an excuse.
“Just James.”
He chuckled, then poured the wine and slid a glass across the table, the base scraping on the wood.
“You want pasta?” he said. “Or we could just do eggs on toast. I don’t mind.”
“Whatever’s easiest.”
I don’t care what’s fordinner.
My world was closing in on me. Everything I’d ignored for so long was coming back at me, more unsettling than ever.Was Toby Davenportright?
“The little lies we tell ourselves so we can keep doing what we want, have the nicethings.”
Liam took a sip of wine, then reached past me for the olive oil.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
No. No I’mnot.
The wine was sharp in my stomach.
He cracked the eggs into a bowl, one-handed, noting how the shells split cleanly, without any mess. I watched the yolks slide together as he whisked them with a fork.
“What time’s Eliza back? Do you think she’ll want some?” He tipped the eggs into the pan, being careful not to spill any.
“I don’t know. Late.”
See, Andrea? You knew this would happen. You can’t ignore thingsforever.
