Page 116 of A Dark Fall

Because she knows me inside out. Iwouldregret it for the rest of my life. If I don’t at least try to work through the secrets, then I’ll never know. He hurt me, yes, but he’s been hurt too. His experiences have molded him into this hard-shelled, mistrusting person. I need to show him he can trust me.

Robyn pays for lunch as a “head bridesmaid with man troubles treat” and walks me back to my car. When I’m inside, she taps the window, and I press the button to open it.

“Call me later, okay? If you need me, call me. Anytime. Everything’s going to be fine. I was witness to you two together.” She fans her face. “HOT. Now, go get your bloody man!” she says dramatically, and I can’t help but giggle.

Rob hugs me again through the window, and I promise to guard her dress with my life before pulling out of my tight parking space and driving off into the ridiculously busy London traffic. She waves at me from the pavement until I turn the corner.

I’ll start by telling him I’m in love with him. That should make the rest of it easier.

Tell him I love him. Everything else should be easy.

Jake having a son isn’t an issue. All it does is add another layer to him. I can be with a guy who has a child. It’s different and unexpected, but it’s not an insurmountable issue. The issue has always been him keeping things from me—himself, mainly. It’s his not trusting me.

Of course, Rob is right. Trust is given and earned over time, but given how we met, how I’ve kept his secrets since the moment I knew him, maybe I feel as if he should have given me more credit in the trust department.

If we’re going to do this—be together—then I need to be able to ask him questions and get proper answers back. I don’t need to know about every single aspect of his life, but I need to know the important things. If he wants this to work, then he needs to be prepared to open up to me at some point.

After dinner, I pour myself a glass of wine to steady my nerves ... and then a second because, well, two glasses are better than one. As I call up his name in my phone, my heart feels as if it might explode out of my chest. I stare at it for almost five whole minutes until the light goes out on the screen. I’m not afraid that calling him is a mistake, that being with him is a mistake, but I am scared the distance I’ve put between us this week has altered his thinking in some way. I’m scared I’ve left it too late, and he’s decided it’s over. I’m not sure I’m prepared for that.

I guess that’s where the wine will come in handy.

As I hit the dial button on his name, I think I stop breathing entirely until, on the second ring, he answers.

“Hey,” he says quietly. His voice is steady, but he sounds surprised, I think.

My breathing starts up again, and my heart staggers at the sound of his voice, so deep and close and still with the power to make goose bumps break out across my skin. God, I’ve missed the sound of his voice. It’s warm and soft, and it seeps into my cold, lonely bones.

“Hi,” I whisper.

There’s a moment of heavy silence before I hear him let out a deep breath. “Been hoping all week that you were going to call,” he says, his voice sounding uncertain and un-Jake-like.

“You could have called me.”

He sighs. “I almost did. About a hundred fucking times. I just didn’t want you to hang up on me. I figured if you wanted to talk to me, you’d call ...”

I nod even though I know he can’t see me. “I think we should talk, don’t you?” I say tentatively.

“When?”

The speediness of his reply takes me by surprise. “Um, well, what are you doing now?” I look up at the clock on my wall. It’s 8:10 p.m. on a Saturday night. “You’ll be going to the club later, I assume. Or are you there now?”

“I’m at home. I was going to head down in a bit, but I don’t have to. I can come and see you.” Then, soft and uncertain: “I mean, if that’s what you’re saying. If that’s what you want.”

Of course it’s what I want. It’s all I’ve wanted all week. I take another sip of wine to cool down.

“I don’t want to keep you from work, Jake. We can arrange to meet through the week, when—”

“Alex, I’d much rather see you tonight if it’s an option,” he cuts in. “I want to see you. I need to see you, baby,” he adds, urgent now.

My body softens further at the nickname, and I close my eyes and chew my lip hard. I’ve had two glasses of wine, and I’m not entirely confident I won’t throw myself at him if he comes here tonight. This was about arranging to meet and talk. I should have prepared for this. It’s not sensible for him to come over now.

I take another sip of wine and swallow. His breaths are faint and shallow down the other end of the line while he waits.

“Okay. I’m at home. Come over,” I hear myself say.

“Okay, I’ll leave now,” he says in a businesslike tone.

“Okay,” I manage.