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Chapter 47

A grand total of zero useful ideas came to Alyssa while she was in Rufus’s shower. On the plus side, at least she was clean and vaguely presentable when the video call came in from Devan.

Her heart soared at the sight of his name … but how was she going to explain this mess? She’d been longing to talk to him, though since she’d last seen him, she’d kept her messages breezy – and she definitely hadn’t mentioned trolls or fleeing to London. Again. None of this felt like the kind of thing to be discussed over a jolly phone conversation while he was on an important work thing, but she couldn’t keep pretending all was well – and a video call was almost face to face.

She took a deep breath, adjusted the towel wrapped around her hair, and pressed to answer.

‘Alyssa, where are you?’ He squinted at the screen. ‘I’m back from the conference and you’re not at The Cow Shed. I’d wanted to surprise you. The spare key’s not behind the sign and Jess said you didn’t collect Pikachu and Minnie. Is everything OK?’

The look on his face seemed like genuine worry rather than stalkerish-ness, and she hated that she was even assessing him in that way.

‘I hadn’t planned to let myself in,’ he said quickly. ‘I was just worried that you weren’t answering the phone or your door, and nobody had heard from you. I panicked that you might have had an accident.’

‘I’ve been in the shower,’ she explained.

He cocked his head, his forehead creasing. She could tell he was wondering whose shower, and why it wasn’t her own, but that he was too polite and trusting to question her. Desperate to stop his heart from sinking, she decided it was time to fill him in.

‘I’m in London, with my agent.’ And as calmly as she could, she began recounting everything that had happened since she’d last seen him.

She hadn’t been sure if she was going to share all of that, until she’d seen his concern. His deep blue eyes, magnified in size and loveliness by his thick-framed glasses that slid down his nose every time his forehead creased a little more. She winced as she told him about the photos of Emmalina and the threats to declare Devan wasn’t her biological dad. His jaw tightened, and she could tell the fist of his free hand was probably doing the same, in defence of the child who was so precious to him and who was his pride and joy of a daughter in every way that mattered. She was expecting him to shout or get cross, because she’d brought this mayhem to their door. She wouldn’t blame him for letting rip or telling her never to come back to Hartglove with her circus of problems and fake news. But he did none of those things.

Instead, he looked hurt. Which was worse.

‘So you escaped to London,’ he said quietly, as though still trying to process it. ‘You didn’t feel you could turn to me?’

His confused eyes seemed to say: And you thought your dimwit agent was a safer bet? Although he wasn’t catty enough to voice it. She bit her lip, remembering what Devan had once confided in her. I’m nobody’s first choice. She couldn’t let him feel that way.

‘It’s not like that. It’s just you were busy with work, and—’

‘Alyssa, my work is never more important than you.’

A pang of guilt hit her chest, because she had sometimes put her love coach reputation before being honest about their relationship. On the scale of great conversations, this was at the rotten tomatoes end.

‘Will you be … coming back?’ he asked.

He was trying not to be pushy, which broke her heart even more. What she wouldn’t give to be wrapped in his arms and feel safe again. But she’d come to London for a reason.

‘I hope so. Though I have a lot to think about right now, and I want to somehow fix this. If I’ve brought this about with my stupid false pretences, I need to sort it out.’

‘Whatever this is, you have not brought it about,’ he said more firmly. ‘That’s not how trolling works. It’s on them, not you. Always.’

‘OK,’ she replied, unsure how the hell anything worked anymore.

‘Wait. Do you suspect me?’ His face fell.

‘No, of course not.’

Despite what both Rufus and the unknown keyboard maniac had suggested, she really didn’t. But she did have questions.

‘Did you come to London looking for me, a while after I left Hartglove?’

Devan’s eyes widened. In hindsight, maybe this wasn’t the best time to ask him about what Rufus had suggested, as now it looked accusatory.

‘Who told you that?’ he asked. Then he sighed. ‘Rufus.’

Though where most people might have ranted about Rufus stirring the poo with a massive stick, Devan remained civilised. How she loved that about him.

‘Yes, I did go to London,’ he admitted. ‘I hadn’t been able to trace you as Beryl. But when I happened to notice you online as Alyssa Heart, I did come after you to try and talk. I told you that Sylvie and I were worried about you, and I hated how we’d left things. The only way I could think to get in touch was through your agent. But he told me you were settling down with some rich bloke, and a married man like me shouldn’t be sniffing around you. He kind of had a point, even though I wasn’t truthfully married, and I felt embarrassed and foolish about the whole thing. So I backed off and stopped trying to find you.’