“What?” And then, comprehension dawned. “You knew about him.” She closed her eyes softly. “You saw a picture of him and me … the night we … Oh, Caradoc. You idiot. You’re here because you’re jealous. Not because you love me, but because, like some stupid immature, insecure child you’ve realised someone else is playing with a toy you had first and you don’t like it.”
“You’re damned right I don’t like it,” he said thickly. “That photo made me sick to my stomach.”
“It wasn’t what it looked like,” she defended huffily.
“And him leaving your place the next morning?”
“God, were you just camped out there or something?”
“I came to see you. I arrived only a minute before he left, looking very smug with himself, I might add.”
“He’s a good friend,” she said simply. “And beyond that, it’s not your business.”
“Jesus, Finn. Please throw me a bone here. I can’t lose you. So tell me what I can do.”
Her laugh was without humour. “Go back in time and change everything.”
He frowned.
“The whole time we were together, everything was on your terms. You wouldn’t beg. You wouldn’t ask. You would simply state your request and expect me to go along with it. I see that now, though at the time I was too blinded by how much I loved you to see a damned thing. I hate myself for having gone along with that.”
“Fine. I can fix this,” he promised desperately. “I will do anything you ask of me now. You control our relationship. You fucking control me. “
She lifted a hand to brush away a stray strand of hair that was over her eyes. He moved for it at the same time and their fingers brushed. Electricity jolted her system.
“Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need. I will do anything to show you how much you mean to me.”
“Stop it.” She begged urgently. She ripped her hand far away from his. “Please stop. I can’t do this again.”
“Try,” he said with the same sense of need. “Just … try.”
“I …”
“You loved me. You said you loved me, at least. I don’t think you’ve switched that off. So give me a chance. Just … open the door.”
Her heart was pulling at her, begging her to listen to him. Her mind was doing its level best to get her feet to storm away.
She was in pain. Physically, her body felt injured somehow. “I …”
“Caradoc? What are you doing out here?”
The voice behind them was heavily accented and smoky. They turned as one, and Finn felt a sharp pang of disgust.
“You’re here with someone.” Not just someone. His lover. The woman who had been in his bed long before her, and who was no doubt sharing it now.
“No,” he denied instantly. “Not in the way you’re imagining. Just … give me a moment and I can explain.”
He turned to speak to Marlena and now, Finn’s brain was back in charge. She looked at the two of them together and moved quickly away. Any guilt she felt for letting Anton down was more than justified by the blind panic of coming face to face with the love of her life – and his lover.
She hailed a cab and, only once safely in the leather interior, did she pull out her mobile and fire two quick text messages. The first was to Anton. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to deal with him. I ran away. She emphasised it with a frustrated emoji and then loaded up a new text message. This one took her a little longer to compose, but finally, she sent it.
I need you to respect my choice now, as you have all along. It’s over between us. What I wanted from you – what I thought I felt for you – that’s in the past now. Goodbye.
And in that moment, Finn discovered she had a similar flair for the dramatic as Caradoc’s mother Sasha. She wound down the window of the taxi and flung her broken phone out onto the bridge. Spinning around in the seat, she saw it being run over by the lorry following and smiled weakly.
It was over.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Cliff grumbled, spooning his cereal into his mouth messily.
“You know, I don’t think anyone over eight eats those rice bubble things,” Finn chastised affectionately, reaching across and smoothing one off his cheek.
He shrugged. “They’re good.”
“And what won’t you get used to?” Connie prompted, her head bent over a stack of assignments.
“Our apartment looking like a funeral home.”
Finn bit down on her lip as she surveyed the room. Caradoc had taken it to the next level. Flowers were everywhere. Enormous bunches of roses, lilies, tulips and greenery. It was both beautiful and depressing, for Finn found she could never get him out of her head.
“You can throw them out, if you’d like,” she said with a shrug of affected nonchalance.
“They’re too beautiful for that,” Connie responded swiftly. “They should at least be dried out and turned into pot pourri.”
“Sure. Go ahead. Be my guest. I don’t want them.” She pushed her plate away, the toast half eaten.
Connie sent a meaningful look to Cliff, who proceeded to shovel yet another spoonful of cereal in.
“It’s been two weeks since you saw him,” she began tentatively, reaching across and grabbing Finn’s hand when she went to stand up. “Just let me say this. We need to talk about it. We’re all living this out with you now.”
“That’s not my fault,” Finn chipped angrily.
“No, but we care about you. We want to talk to you. To help you.”
“Then let’s move,” she said dejectedly.
“That’s not going to solve it. He’s persistent as hell,” Cliff said through a full mouth.
“How is it possible you’re still single? Connie murmured sarcastically, staring at the milk that dribbled out of the corner of his lips and rolled down his chin. “But you have a point. Listen, Finny, we wouldn’t say anything except that you’re … well…”
“Miserable,” Cliff offered helpfully.
“Yeah,” Connie agreed. “You’re not happy. You still love this guy, and he’s obviously madly in love with you. So why are you ignoring him?”
“Because, you’re wrong. He’s not in love with me. He doesn’t believe in love. He’s fucked up. He’s… completely closed off.”
Connie shook her head. “He might not believe in love, but he’s living it. Why does it matter so much to you that he say the words? What the hell is a word anyway? A sentence? Love is about more than that, and you know it. It’s about how you treat someone.”
Finn’s hurt squished in her chest. Pain radiated through her. “And he treated me like I was inconsequential and utterly expendable.”
“Did he really? Or is that just what you want to believe?” Connie pushed.
“Excuse me?” Finn’s pulse was burning her nerve endings. “I would have done anything to cling to hope – any hope – that he and I meant more to each other than we did. I wanted, so badly, for him to give me any sign that he felt for me what I did for him.”
“But he did! He kept asking you to stay.”
“As his lover, not in his life.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s not perfect, but he’s an idiot. At least when it comes to relationships. I’m not saying you have to forgive him everything. But don’t you think you owe him at least a chance to make it up to you?”
“No. I can’t risk it.” Finn sucked in a deep breath. “He eviscerated me, guys. I can’t go through it again. I don’t think I’d survive it.”
“I don’t think he’s going to break your heart. I think he’s going to make you the happiest you’ve ever been. And if I’m wrong …”
“If you’re wrong?” Finn pushed moodily.
“I bet I won’t be.”
Finn scraped her chair back with a polite smile. “I really appreciate your concern. And I’m sorry about the flowers. But it’s my problem. And my life.” She kissed Connie on the head and then Cliff. “Thank y
ou guys for caring. I love you both. I have to go to work.”
She smoothed her jacket and checked her appearance in the hall mirror before pushing out into the frigid December day. A wind wuthered past the building, making a high pitched screaming noise that set her nerves on edge. They remained that way all day. She went through the motions of her job, smiling politely and navigating the car expertly through the back streets of the West End, but her mind was at the breakfast table, and her head was digesting Connie’s words.
On autopilot, at the end of the day, she found herself driving not to her own comfortable little flat, but to Caradoc’s palatial home in the skies above Canary Wharf.
And there she sat, parked across from the entrance to his building, her mind and heart literally split on what she should do. The next two minutes were shaping up to be the most important of her life. And Finn had only to decide if she was brave enough to trust him once more.
Or was she stupid if she did?
With a groan, she fished her new phone from her bag and ran her finger over the screen. What could she say? He’d done what she asked of him. He’d stayed away. But the flowers that had arrived every day were his way of reassuring her. He was still there. He wanted her. There was no one else.
She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath, then stepped out into the evening. Though he was on the top floor, and she remembered it taking a while to reach there the last time she’d come to him, the lift seemed to move with the speed of angels that night.
It opened onto his level swiftly, and Finn was left in an empty corridor, staring at his door.
Her breathing was rushed. She told herself she’d wait just until she could speak without sounding puffy and out of breath. She walked slowly towards his apartment, and felt as though the strings of destiny had wound around her slender frame and were guiding her in his direction.
Finn had surrendered to it all now.
She loved him too much to do otherwise.
The door opened when she was only two feet away and she startled, her green eyes flying to Caradoc’s face accusingly.
“Seraphina?” He stopped walking and stood still, like a statue.
He was dressed in a dark grey suit with a crisp white shirt. He was going out somewhere.
“Need a lift?”
The joke was inane and it fell flat. He dragged his eyes over her appearance – dressed in a white shirt and black pants, he put an arm around her and moved her towards his apartment. “You’re frozen.”
“Am I?” She frowned. She’d been cold to the core for months now.
“Yes,” an angry hiss. “Come in. Sit down.”
The sofa was cream. Just like New York. She eased herself into it and stared at yet another incomparable view of a twinkling city. His laptop was set up on the table, and there were papers spread out wide on either side.
“I interrupted. You’re working.”
He looked over from the kitchen, halfway through making a cup of tea. He’d noticed she had them often. He’d even heard her –absurdly, he’d thought – refer to ‘tea moments’. He would have bet his fortune that this was one of them.
He carried it through the lounge and handed it to her. And it was there. The spark of voltage that they alone seemed able to generate.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her green eyes awash with emotion when they briefly linked with his.
“Of course.” He crouched down in front of her. He had to be close. He had to be near her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said finally, when she simply cradled the tea and stared straight ahead.
“I don’t know why I am.” Her response was soft, accompanied by a shrug of her shoulders.
Caradoc frowned. She was shivering now. He reached for one of the ridiculous mohair throws his designer had furnished the apartment with and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Actually,” she said, dragging her eyes back to his with some effort. “I do. I have to ask you some questions.”
“Good. Questions are good.” Questions meant that she was going to listen to him, finally. That she was going to, perhaps, forgive him for being the most arrogant arsehole on the face of the earth. “Ask me anything you want, baby.”
Her tummy hurt. Anything?
“Have you slept with anyone else? Since me?”
Of course it had to be that first. “No.” He assured her, putting a hand on her knee. “But … I wanted to.”
She closed her eyes and expelled a soft breath.
“I wanted to screw every woman I could find to get you out of my mind. God, Finn, when you left … I didn’t know how to feel. I was so angry. With you. With myself. I was furious. I thought that I could prove to myself that you were just another woman. That you weren’t special to me.” He reached up and cupped her cheek gently. “But then I discovered the idea of being with anyone else was anathema to me. I wanted only you.”
Relief was a full-blown force in her body. “And Marlena?”
“Is a friend. We were lovers once. A long time ago. She’s completely besotted with a German Formula One driver. And even if she weren’t, she’s still just a friend.”
Finn believed him. It was strange, but for all his faults, she didn’t believe Caradoc capable of lying. He had no reason to.
“But you brought her to that thing. You must have known I’d be there. You knew about Anton …”
“Yes.” His face flashed with emotion. “I knew.”
“Did you bring her to hurt me? To make me jealous?”
His smile was lopsided. “No.” He took the tea from her fingers and placed it on the coffee table, then wrapped his hands around hers. “This is going to sound ridiculous. But she was worried about me.”
Finn balked. “Worried? About you?” Was he sick? Was something wrong? Her chest compressed painfully. “Why?”
“Because she’d never seen me like this. Like I was after you left. You broke my heart, and Marlena didn’t want me getting messed up again.”
“I broke your heart?” Finn repeated disbelievingly. “You’re kidding me right?”
“Not at all,” he assured her. “Why would you find that so hard to understand?”
“You don’t have a heart. You don’t believe in love, remember? And I’m the one … I’m the one who was heartbroken. You could have stopped me from leaving. You could have come after me sooner. You could have told me that it wasn’t just about sex for you.”
“I know,” he knelt up, so that his face was level with hers. “But I didn’t see that then. I took you for granted because I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it. I knew I couldn’t lose you. And then, that night … you gave me an ultimatum and I panicked. I wanted so badly to say whatever you needed to hear to make you stay, but I was furious too. How could you think of leaving me? Didn’t you know that would destroy me? Didn’t you care? There you were talking about love, and yet you didn’t care enough to stay with me. Yes, Finn, I was ruined when you walked out of my life.”
Her lip trembled with tears that she didn’t want to allow. “I left out of self-preservation.”
“I wouldn’t have hurt you.”
She stood up angrily, moving away from him. “You hurt me every day. Every day we were together and you didn’t say what I needed to hear.”
“That I loved you?” He barked in frustration.
“Yes! That you needed me somewhere other than your bed.”
“That’s bullshit,” he contradicted, knowing he should be playing this smarter and saying what she needed to hear now. Only he couldn’t fight his true nature, and he needed to be honest with her. “You just weren’t listening. I gave you more of myself than I knew I had to give. I’ve never had a relationship before, Finn! I didn’t know what the hell I was doing! All my adult life has been about taking what I wanted and making it work for me. I stuffed up! I admit that. But every time I looked at you, you must have seen how I felt. When I reached for you in the middle of the night, that wasn’t just
because my body was turned on and looking for a quick fuck. My God, I reached for you because I needed you. Because I needed to feel you, and smell you, and taste you.”
She was shaking. Her mind was reeling. “That’s just sex.”
“It’s never just been sex with us!” He yelled, dragging a hand through his hair. “You were there with me. I know you felt what I did.”
“Stop it,” she shook her head from side to side, her hair loosening about her face. “Even when you went back to Manhattan, you asked me to come in the most noncommittal way possible. You wouldn’t have cared if I’d said no. You would have just replaced me.”
“How could I ever replace you? I’ve slept with a lot of women, Finn. I’m not going to lie to you. But I have never asked a single one of them to stay. To live with me. To wake up next to me. To eat with me. To laugh with me. I have never called one in the middle of the day just to hear their voice, as I did with you every day. Do you really think I could ever replace you?”
A sob tore from her body and she spun away from him, her every sense was besieged by hope and wonderment. Had Connie been right after all? These were the words of a man in love. A man who didn’t believe in love, who was nonetheless experiencing it.
“I judged my mother so harshly for her dramatic lifestyle choices and yet here I am, willing to do anything you ask of me. I would give away my fortune for you. I want you. And I’m begging you.”
She spun around to face him. “You don’t beg. And you don’t ask twice.”
“Don’t. Don’t repeat my stupid, idiotic assertions back to me.”
She bit down on her lip. “For how long?”
“For how long what?”
“For how long do you want me? Another week? A month perhaps? I can’t leave you again. You speak of being broken and yet you’ve no idea.” She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “If I have to leave you again, it will break me beyond repair.”
“Then don’t. Don’t ever leave me.”
Her eyes widened. Her heart raced. But she wasn’t ready yet. She couldn’t believe. It was asking too much. “Why are you here?” Her words were soaked with tears. “Why did you come back?”
The Terms of Their Affair Page 16