But I hadn’t bought it intentionally.
Why didn’t she just give me a chance toexplain?
Fuck, I missed her so much it felt like there was a hole carved deep inside me, like it had taken out a part I didn’t even know was there.
Outside the office, it was easy to stay away from each other. The act we’d put on for Hugo had done its job, and there wasn’t a single reason I could make up to insist she saw me. Even if I tried, I knew she’d throw the NDA back in my face and tell me the whole thing, the charade, was over.
She didn’t need the money now anyway.
A crisp packet blew into my path, and I jogged around it. In the distance, I could see the London Eye, unmoving in the early light.
I still didn’t understand why she’d linked the redundancies with what had happened with the painting. Those things weren’t connected, were they?
“These are real people’s lives you’re tearingapart.”
She’d known what I was doing with Novexia before we’d even gone to France. The pack had been out two weeks before we’d left. And still, she’d slept with me, and I thought we’d been getting closer, every small connection point becoming something more, until—
Fuck. The idea of not having Andrea in my life felt like something in the universe had cracked—like we’d glitched into an alternate reality where the colors were off and gravity pointed the wrong way.
My phone vibrated against my hip. Only Bonnie phonedme this early. I slowed, then stopped, hands braced on my knees as I pulled air back into my lungs.
I took the phone out.
Wilhelm.Why is hecalling?
My thumb hovered over the screen for a second before I answered. I didn’t want to talk to my father now. I never did, but now, when I was trying to pull myself back together, seeing his name on the screen brought back something that chafed part of me I’d buried a long time ago. The small part that wanted approval but had decided I didn’t need it, that it was more important to do what was necessary than worry about what people thought—least of all, him.
“Hi.”
“It’s me. Dad.”
I never called himDad. The word was loaded with an affection he didn’t deserve.
“Yes?”
“Can we catch up?”
“Can this wait?”
“No.”
“What is it?”
I sat down on a park bench. My skin was covered with sweat, and I wiped it off my brow.
“I’m in London. Let’s grab lunch.”
“Coffee? I’m rather busy.”
Silence. I looked at the phone. No, he was still on the line, unfortunately.
“Yes. Fine.”
“Brompton Rooms at ten?”
“See you then.”
*
