I’d felt as if I knew everything about him, but perhaps he doesn’t fully understand how profoundly Daphney’s death changed him. I understand him so much better now. Why he is the way that he is. Why he feels the need to protect and save everyone and everything. Hell, the man can’t even let furniture die. Brooke cheated on him, demanded separate lives, and became a junkie, but he fought for her. He’ll never give up on O, no matter what she does. I get it now. I’m not happy about it, but I get it.
Unlocking this piece of Gavin’s past has brought me closer to him, yet he’s slipping further and further away. O has stirred up the ghosts that haunt him, and with the events this week, he also has to face the memories of his fallen troops. Gavin has absorbed the responsibility of every death, every injury, the heartache of every man and woman he served with. His guilt is a yoke around his neck, and right now it’s crippling him in a way I’ve never seen. What was he thinking scheduling this event at the same time as the anniversary of Daphney’s death? He’s like sand slipping through my fingers, and I have no idea how to help him.
His dark mood overtakes him. My once loving and attentive boyfriend is cold and distant. I ache for his wanton, come-hither stares. All I get now are vacant glances that send shivers up my spine. Since we met, I’ve basked in the glorious warmth of Gavin’s attention. In the last week, he’s built up walls that shut me out in the cold. Every effort I make is ill received. He won’t talk to me. Hell, he won’t even fight with me. If I say or do something that I know upsets him, he just looks at me with those distraught eyes. It kills me that he won’t let me help him. I understand he gets into these moods. The best thing I can do for him is give him space until it passes. The question is, what kind of shape will I be in when it does?
With gala week approaching, I’m kept busy, and I couldn’t be more thankful. Otherwise, the enormity of Gavin’s withdrawal would kill me. When we’re in public, he acts as though everything is fine. He’s full of polite smiles and socially appropriate chit chat. But when we’re alone, I can barely get two words from him. We haven’t so much as held hands since that night. I’d say he’s pushing me away, but to push, he’d have to actually make contact.
The only time I can get him to speak to me is Monday, hours before we have to be at our first gala-week reception. Gavin spent the day at the office, and he came home to “collect” me before dinner. He’d told me to be “appropriately dressed and ready to leave by six o’clock sharp.”
Not wanting to disappoint him, I put all my effort into being the perfect date. I’m minutes away from finishing my makeup when I get a call from Greene.
“Hey, kid,” he says. “To give you a heads up, Max got his pink slip today. He isn’t handling it well.”
I’m in complete shock. “What? How is that possible?”
“He appealed his suspension, and not only was the appeal denied, but they found cause to terminate him. His career is over.”
“Greene, I—”
“Call him, Lily. He’s too proud to call, but he needs you.”
“Thank you,” I say before I hang up.
I dial Max right away. We haven’t really spoken since Vegas. I tried when I heard he was suspended, but he wouldn’t take my calls.
“’Sup, slugger,” he answers.
“Max…” I try to hold back my tears.
“Slugger. Huh, quite the appropriate name for you.” He’s drunk. His voice is husky, and there’s a slight slur to his words. “You sure took a Louisville Slugger to my career, didn’t you?”
“Max, I—”
“What? You didn’t mean to? You’re sorry? Well, fuck sorry. You destroyed my life. We slept under the same roof for how many months, and you lied to my face every single day! You played with fire with the worst type of criminals, and I’m the one who got burned.”
“Max, please…” I don’t know what I can say, but I want to make it better.
“I put my life on the line for you, and it was for nothing. For lies and deception. How am I repaid? They take my motherfucking badge. My badge, Lily. That meant everything to me, and now it’s gone.”
“Please, there must be something I can do. Someone I can talk to. I’ll take all the blame. I’ll tell them you didn’t know. I can fix this, I know I can.”
“Fix this? Fix this? You think you can fix it? Please, it was you trying to fix shit that got me in this mess in the first place. Stop trying to fix things because all you do is fuck it up. You’re like poison. Just stay the fuck out of my life.”
“Max!” I cry, but it’s too late. He’s hung up, and I’m a blubbering mess. I try calling back, but he sends my calls to voice mail. Ten minutes later, I receive a text.
Max: My shit’s out of your apartment and now you’re out of my life. Do me a favor and lose my number before you infect anything else.
Just as I read this, Gavin walks in.
“You’re not bloody ready?” he snaps.
“No, Gavin. I’m not bloody ready,” I snap back. “I just got a call from—”
“You’re not in any shape to accompany me this evening,” he says coldly. “I’ll go alone. This event is too important to risk its success over you being too caught up in your own issues to be an adult.” The walls shake when he slams the bedroom door as he leaves.
I’ve always said he’s the wordsmith in the relationship. His words can melt my heart or cut me to the bone. The two most important men in my life have shut me out. My heart has shattered into a million pieces, and I’m left immobile on the cold marble floor. I’m too broken to cry. I just lay there, numb and emotionally hollow.
At some point, I hear someone come in the flat. It could be ten minutes or ten days; I’ve lost all sense of time.
“What a shame. That has got to be the sexiest underwear I’ve ever seen, and let me tell you, I’ve seen a lot of underwear.” Liam crouches next to me on the floor. “You laying there in that get-up could be so hot, but it’s totally ruined by the puffy eyes and sniffling. Damn, Honey Bunny, snot is not sexy. You really know how to kill the mood.”
He hands me a tissue. “What are you doing here, Liam?” My throat is raw, and I sound as broken as I feel.
“Em called and asked me to check on you. She heard some shite went down with your old roommate, and said you’re not answering your phone. When I didn’t see you at the reception, she asked me to drop in on you.”
I wipe my nose. “Thank God I have Em.”
“Now, now, you’ve got me too, HB. You have Gavin. This week is hard for him; it is every year. He puts on a great show, but behind the scenes, he’s in one of his moods. He can be a callous arse. It’s not on purpose; it’s just his way of dealing with this week. Once it’s all said and done, he’ll go back to being Mr. Perfect. Don’t you worry.” He wipes the hair out of my face. “I’m going to pick you up and carry you to the bed. I fully intend to cop a feel while I’m doing it, so be prepared.”
Liam is always true to his word. He grabs both T and A while carrying me to the bed.
“HB! You thrust your ass into my hands! What are you thinking? This is a terrible time for you to come on to me,” he teases.
“If you’re trying to get a rise out of me, it ain’t happening. I fully intend to be miserable the rest of the night.”
“Something in here is getting a rise, that’s for sure.”
I crack a slight smile.
“Ah, there’s my girl,” he coos. “Come on now. Keep smiling for me, okay? This’ll pass with Gavin. I don’t know the deal with the other bloke, but Em said it was pretty bad. All I can say is fuck ‘em.” He plants a wet kiss on my cheek. “Who needs him when you’ve got me?” He lays me down on the bed and grabs the Oxford sweatshirt.
“Criminy, this thing is old. Can’t believe it’s still around. Gavin bought this when he was first accepted at Oxford, before his modeling money started coming in and he didn’t have two shillings to his name.”
I pull the sweatshirt over my head. “Maybe I’m just desti
ned to be with Em for the rest of my life. She seems to be the only one who can be with me without suffering from Lily Rot.”
“Two questions. Lily Rot? Is that like crotch rot? If so, maybe I should sit over there. I love you, but my love only goes so far.”
That gets a full-blown laugh from me.
“Second. You and Em? Together? Is there video?”
Damn, not him too! “No comment. Thank you for putting me to bed. I’m thinking I should sleep in the spare room tonight.”
“Stay here, Lily. You’re hurting, and he should see that. Try to get some rest, though. You really do look like shite.”
I kiss his cheek. “You always say the sweetest things. Good night, Liam.”
“Later, Honey Bunny.”
Sleep takes me some time after Liam leaves. I never hear Gavin come home, but when I wake up around dawn, he’s in bed with me. I use the term “in bed” loosely. He’s technically on the bed but as far away from me as possible. We might as well be on separate continents.
We don’t discuss what happened on Monday night. For the rest of the week, he tells me when and where to show up, and I comply. Onlookers would have no idea anything is going on. We play the part impeccably.
The only good thing about the week is that I get to meet so many soldiers, veterans, and their families. Their stories and strength are awe-inspiring. Alex Baker, my cardiologist, is at almost every event, and since Gavin’s busy schmoozing, Alex takes me around and introduces me to the men who served with him and Gavin. Gavin was a medic in Afghanistan, and I get to meet soldiers who are alive today because of Gavin. It makes my heart soar with pride.
There’s nothing like watching the camaraderie between Gavin and people he served with. Practicing the art of stalking without being detected, I watch how happy and connected he is with them. His time in the military is another piece of him that has always been securely locked up. This week, it’s out on display, and I couldn’t be in more awe.
On Wednesday morning, we have a brunch to honor the fallen. Gavin puts up a brave front, but I feel him dying inside. He’s still tormented by the day he lost his troops in a surprise attack. The event is a beautiful memorial, but it stirs up haunting memories that add to Gavin’s guilt. Seeing him in so much pain is excruciating, especially because he won’t let me comfort him.
Poppy has certainly outdone herself. Each day brings a different social gathering. Cocktails at the Royal Air Force Museum, brunch at the Imperial War Museum, dinner at that Old Royal Navel College. My favorite is the lunch at Churchill’s War Room. Poppy wanted each location to be interesting and unique. Each location was to be more than a venue; it was to be an experience. The love of my life may not be speaking to me, but at least I get to see some cool stuff. I’m all about the consolation prize these days. A girl has to find a reason to schlep around in four-inch heels all night.
My salvation comes on Friday when Em arrives. She’s meeting us at the dinner reception at Tower Bridge. Em’s a social butterfly at events, but I insist she remain glued to my hip. I simply cannot fabricate a smile for another evening without some serious support. I’m half tempted to tell her to be Gavin’s date so I can stay home and go to bed. That, however, would be relationship suicide. I hope once the stress of this week has passed, we can try to find each other again.
Gavin and I arrive and make one lap around the event. Like clockwork, as soon as we have politely greeted all the tables, he shrugs me off. So far, the week has brought in some serious cash, making all of this worth it.
Em arrives an hour late in typical Em style.
“You’re supposed to be my social shield tonight. That’s hard to do when you’re not here,” I say when I greet her.
“Whining like that will give you frown lines. Let’s grab a drink and mingle.”
Men circle around Em like sharks. She relishes the attention, and I’m thrilled the spotlight is off of me. She dominates the conversation so my brain can take a much-needed break. Around eleven, I take a leisurely trip to the restroom to escape the crowd. I get sidetracked and wander around the Tower for close to an hour.
On my way back to the bar, I come around a corner and see Gavin on the phone. He’s pulling at his hair and pacing like he does when he’s stressed. Not wanting another run in, I turn back the way I came. When I hear him speak, the stress in his voice stops me in my tracks. I shouldn’t eavesdrop. That would be a terrible violation of his privacy. What kind of girlfriend does that?
This kind of girlfriend.
“Bloody hell, this is a clusterfuck,” he barks. “What are we going to do?”
He pauses, assumedly to listen to the person on the other end.
“I can’t bloody well tell her now. I’ve got too much going on this week, and we both know how she’ll react. I can’t deal with that right now.”
Is he talking about me? Can’t tell me what?
“I know how you feel about her right now, and I respect that. I can keep you away from each other. Em is here. She’ll keep Lily busy while you and I figure out what we need to do. I’ll send them shopping or something. I just need you to get here. The sooner you get here, the sooner I’ll be able to breathe. This is crushing me.”
I want to run away screaming, but I can’t stop listening.
“Yes. I need you here. Now. I can’t deal with this on my own. This whole mess has me tied up in bloody knots, and I can’t afford that right now. This disaster has gone on long enough. I’ve respected Lily and her feelings, but it’s time I take matters into my own hands.”
That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more. I don’t want to know any more. I want to run away and not look back, but I can’t. I did that before, and it blew up in my face. I know I only heard one half of a conversation, but I heard enough to know that something is about to go down. Whatever it is, I need to deal with it head on. No running and hiding. I refuse to be a coward again. Whatever is about to happen needs to happen so I can move on.
Desperately in need of air, I fight my way upstairs to the walkway. The Tower Bridge is just that—two towers connected by a bridge and a walkway. The view is spectacular. I fall a little bit more in love with London every day. Even now, with my life and my relationship in a state of confusion and uncertainty, I look out over this city and know there isn’t anywhere else I want to be.
As this was an unexpected detour, I didn’t bring my jacket. It’s a cold night, but the January air feels good. The arctic shock saves me from falling down the “what if” rabbit hole. It’s hard not to try to piece together what he was talking about.
“Don’t jump,” a sexy voice calls.
“You sure about that?” I ask with a flat tone.
“Don’t even joke,” Gavin replies.
“I just needed some air. It was getting a little intense down there.”
He laughs quietly. “Intense is a fair way to describe this week. Are you ready to go?”
He has said more to me in the last five minutes than he has all week. I have no idea what that means, especially in light of what I overheard. But I’m staying true to my word. I’ll face this head on, whatever this is.
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Spa day. Regardless of all the crap going on in my life, while I’m at the spa, life is beautiful. Em and I are getting rubbed down, scrubbed, soaked, and polished before the gala tonight. My date and I may not be on speaking terms, but at least I’ll look good.
Chatty Gavin went back into hibernation as soon as we got into the car last night. He hopped on his cell and worked late into the night. I went to bed alone and woke to an empty apartment. He left a note in the kitchen letting me know a limo would pick me up at the Four Seasons at seven and that I would meet him at the gala. Is that romance or what?
I’d hoped Em and I would go to the gala together, but Em, being Em, refuses to arrive until the event has been underway for at least an hour. If I could get away with that, I would. Hell, I’d
skip the damn thing if it wasn’t so important to Gavin. Logic and reason say I don’t have to appease Gavin since he’ll barely look at me, but I love him, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to fix us. Even if that means enduring another night of the cold shoulder. I’ll tolerate this for one more night. Come tomorrow, all bets are off.
The fact that we aren’t going together tells me I’ll be on my own to socialize. When I bought my dress for this shindig, I did so thinking about my first major event on Gavin’s arm. With the amount of press that will be there, I wanted to make sure I played the part of arm candy to a T. The dress is a striking red gown with a plunging neckline that shows off all kinds of cleavage while still being tasteful. In this dress, even I think I look jaw dropping. I may not be on his arm, but I’m damn well going to make him wish I were.
At the other events, everyone in attendance knew whose bed I was sleeping in. I received lots of attention, but it was all innocent. Tonight, over eight hundred people are on the guest list, the vast majority of them unaware of my relationship status. I won’t balk if some attractive man pays me a little attention. In this dress, I’m bound to turn some heads, and if one of those heads isn’t my boyfriend’s, well… so be it.
Midafternoon, Gavin sends a curt text informing me that security has been amped up tonight and I need to arrive extra early. I arrive with an hour to spare, and find he wasn’t kidding. There are security guards everywhere. My purse was searched and I had to be wanded and pat down before I was allowed to enter. I wonder how the upper crust of London’s high society is going to feel about being frisked before entering. I can’t fathom what sort of security risk would cause Gavin to go so overboard, but I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.
Since there was no line, I’m in about an hour before the event starts. Once Poppy lays eyes on me, she sends me running all over, tying up last minute loose ends. They’re annoying tasks, but it’s wonderful to feel needed, wanted, and appreciated. I tell her so, and she snorts and mutters something about if I really understood that, things would be so different. Was that a dig about Gavin and me? I call her out on it, but she brushes me off.
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