Page 143 of The Grand Duel

“This isn’t going anywhere,” I tell him. “I’ll say something I regret if we continue to do this now.”

He steps into me. “Don’t quit.”

I clench my teeth, hating the way I don’t want to let him down, let Ed down. “I can’t continue working here with you.”

“Let me figure this out. It’s not simple. I wish it was, but it isn’t. I didn’t know how to explain myself then, and I still don’t now.” He swallows, begging me with his eyes.

My chest aches, the emotion in my throat threatening to spill over. It’s been the longest day. “I’m going home,” I say before adding with a choked whisper, “Move.”

He stands on the spot, watching me for a minute before defeat flashes in his eyes, his jaw clenching tight.

With devastation marring his face, he steps to the side.

A tear falls down my cheek the second I pass him, the dogs at my feet as I walk to the reception and head right out the doors.

I spend the entire journey home overanalysing everything I said to him. My brain works on overtime, bringing more and more pieces of the conversation into focus.

The way he looked at me.

The way he tried to stop me.

Something in my gut tells me he was being sincere, but then there’s this torn open wound that runs right down the middle of me, and that part of me just needs a minute.

I dump my things inside my flat door and make the three steps to the sofa, where I sink down and stare at the ceiling.

I still haven’t heard anything back from Jovie, and she’ll probably be asleep now, but I know that if I don’t speak to her soon, I’ll spiral into a hole I won’t be able to climb out of.

Are you awake?

I lie in the same position for over an hour before my phone pings. When I check it, a pang of pain travels through me at the name on the screen.

Charles

I’m just checking that you’re home and are okay?

I shake my head, hating how desperate I am to reply to the message.

I need Jovie.

I’m home

I’m so sorry, Lissie.

I’ll clear my weekend plans, and we can meet somewhere. I can explain everything.

Please don’t quit.

I want nothing more than for him to explain why he didn’t tell me, to make it make sense and it all go back to how it was.But all day I’ve tortured myself, going over every moment since that night.

I remember being in the office with Elliot and Mason.

“I’m there to take the load off. Make his life easier, so to speak.”

“Ahh, I see. And how’s that working out for him so far? Are you making his life easier?”

I remember thinking how odd the question was when Elliot had asked it, and yet last night, lying in bed, I cried at the realisation that they knew. They were part of the joke, and Charles sent me to them knowing that.

It’s those things, the small comments and big gestures, that seem so contrived now I know the whole story.