Page 75 of Painted Truths

The thought sends a knife of tortured jealousy straight to my gut, and I can’t help retreating into myself a little, unable to help feeling somehow less-than with her on our flight.

I’m stunned when I make my way onto the opulent jet, which has been fitted with oversized cream leather single seats on either side of an aisle, with accents of beige and gold throughout. The door into the cockpit, alongside a little galley and a seat for Kyra, are to the front. There are two other doors to the rear, which are both closed.

Nate arrives in a chauffeured car mere minutes after our own arrival. I instantly recognise him as the friend who’d spoken to Henry and me on the terrace at Velvet that night.

He is still as dark, as brooding, as serious, and as outrageously gorgeous as back then, but the smile that lights up his face upon our formal introduction turns him from a beautiful man to a living, breathing god amongst men. Jet black hair long enough to graze the collar of his white shirt, over eyes so dark a brown they are almost black, fringed by the longest eyelashes I have ever seen, make him impossibly magnetic.

His face is covered by a full, dark, immaculately trimmed beard, adding to the overall suave look he’s got going on, though I can spot a single dimple on one cheek as he smiles broadly in my direction.

Henry rapidly throws his arm over my shoulder in a blatant caveman display of possession that has both myself and Nate laughing uproariously, despite my earlier peevishness.

For the early part of the flight, Nate takes great pains to get to know me, which ingratiates him to me even more than my first impression.

It turns out I have read and loved his three masterpiece works of fiction that he’d written throughout his teen and early adult years, eventually publishing them to worldwide acclaim at the age of twenty-one.

“You’re Nathaniel Hawthorne? As in, Pulitzer Prize-winning Nathaniel Hawthorne?”

His eyes are jaded and sad behind his half-smile as he nods, indulging me.

“One and the same, unfortunately.”

“I adored your last book, Night For Days. I think I’ve read it about ten times!”

Henry points out that Nate has suffered from writer’s block for several years now, and despite knowing there must be more to the story, I don’t push.

Two hours or so into our flight, Henry excuses himself to use the bathroom, which is behind one of the doors at the back of the plane, a bedroom behind the other.

Nate uses this time to confide that Henry has spoken about me to both himself and Caden on several occasions, surprising the crap out of me.

“Olivia, you have no idea how happy I am to meet you again. I wasn’t sure Henry would ever just take the plunge. Especially considering he still feels a great responsibility to his father, even after two fucking years.”

Sitting back in his seat, I file that tidbit about Henry’s father away for later reflection as he continues. “In the end, we may be bound to our families by blood, but the bonds we’ve forged by friendship and love are what truly matter, above all else.”

Slowly nodding, realising once again how close these three are, Nate confides in a hushed voice, “And it’s not only the bonds of friendship for Henry. When that man lets someone in—and let me tell you, that’s a fucking rarity, my friend—he’s unwavering in his loyalty. I’ve only ever seen him lower his guard enough to let Caden and myself in before meeting his baby sister, Mila. But I can swear, hand on heart—if I had one of them, obviously—he’s slowly letting you in. Just… be patient with him, okay? His emotions are… a little rusty.”

Despite having no clue about the sister Nate mentions, our conversation really helps me see further into the man Henry is, rather than the one he has, for some reason, trained himself to be.

The fact that I am the only one to see that side of him makes me feel so privileged and, at that moment, I’m on cloud nine, excited as all hell at the possibilities for us.

And then that moment ends.

I smile up at Henry as he returns from his trip to the toilet, only for my lips to freeze in place when I see his grey hoodie covered in brown lipstick all around the neck, going along his skin up to the side of his mouth, as a smug, dishevelled Kyra slips by just behind him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Olivia

My eyes fly to Nate’s. My heart stops when I find his eyes as wide and shocked as mine. I push up to my feet, feigning tiredness and willing my face to remain impassive while unable to meet Henry’s eyes.

Bidding both men goodnight, I slip past them, rapidly making my way to the back of the plane before I tug off my knee-highs, followed by my socks, and lie down with my back to the door, desperately begging my moronic heart to get it together.

It’s not like we’d put a label on this, whatever this is, and obviously, my heart has been losing the damn run of itself, with my head thinking it’s something it’s obviously not.

Father T’s voice flashes through my mind and I voice his words to the emptiness of the room.

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

He’s free to do what he wants with whomever he wants, despite his earlier claiming.