He's Captured My Trust (Captured Series Book 2) (28 page)

“So where have you got Kirsty today?” I ask as we wrap up our meeting.

“I’ve left her dealing with all the departments individually and some stocktaking in each. She’ll spend a few hours in the kitchen going through paperwork as well,” he says, laughing, and I join him as I think about that. Kirsty will need to get used to doing all these types of jobs if she gets the position she’s interviewing for. It’s not always just smiling for the public, as I’m sure she now realises with the shifts she’s been doing here.

“Right. If that’s us finished up for today, my mum will be here for lunch, so I should go and join her.”

“Before you go—are you okay? I mean, with everything that’s going on?” Kieran asks with fresh concern written all over his perfect face.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I tell him, then add, “I’ll let you know when I’m not, but I really am good.”

“Okay, I’ll take that, but promise to let me know. If you need me, I’m here. And anyway, I think we both need a good night out—no drama.”

“I’m sure Saturday night will be fun. Now I had better get moving and not leave my mum waiting for me.” I move out of my seat.

“Enjoy your lunch. I know Kirsty is looking forward to seeing you tonight,” he says as I leave my office.

As I enter the restaurant, I see my mother sitting by the windows, enjoying the view. She looks her normal stunning self. Gone is the look of exhaustion that was clearly evident yesterday. Even from this distance, I can see that the dark circles around her eyes are gone and the sparkle is back. I stroll leisurely toward her, and, as I get closer, the smile on her face grows until it reaches her eyes.

She stands as I get to the table and pulls me into a tight embrace. “Sweetheart, you look rested, all things considered. How are you? And I won’t take ‘good’ for an answer.”

“I won’t say it then,” I say as we take our seats. A waiter comes over straight away to take our drinks order, but we both know what we want and order our food as well, both opting for soup and a light salad.

“Elizabeth, you know you can’t hide much from me.”

“No, I know that.”

“I think you should start with whatever happened in New York.”

I smile at her. I swear she has a sixth sense.

“And I don’t mean what happened between the sheets.”

“Mum.”

“I’m prepared to sit here all day until you tell me.” Her straight face tells me she means business. I may as well get it over with. I tell her everything and she sits quietly, listening without interruptions. I even fill her in on the details of the past Alex and Katherine share. I want her to be objective and give me her honest opinion. When I’m finished, I can see that she is mulling over, what I’ve just said contemplating what to say next.

“I’m glad you’ve been open and honest with me, and I’ll try to do the same. Katherine sounds like a mixed-up girl who has been dealt a not-great hand, so to speak. I can understand Alex’s need to help. That shows his caring qualities, and no one should question those. I can also see why there is unfinished business between them, and, again, I can understand why he needs to address it. Both of them have to be able to deal with the situation they were in all those years ago and learn to move forward, not stay stuck in the past. It sounds as if Katherine is stuck there, but Alex has indicated he wants to look forward to his future.”

She sighs before restarting. “Now, I know Alex wants you in New York with him . . .”

“W-what do you mean?” I splutter.

“Oh, honey, he spoke with your father shortly after he left here. The man loves you. None of us could question his love for you. But as your mother, I’m concerned about the pain he’s causing you, albeit unintentionally. And don’t look at me like that. I’m your mother, and I will always speak my mind where you’re concerned.”

I know I must be making a face at her. But I smile at her words, because, as usual, she’s right, and I can just imagine her next conversation with Alex. His silence is leaving me deeply hurt, and I also know that the longer it goes on, the more likely it is that my hurt will turn to anger.

“You two will have to have a serious talk at some point. You also need to decide what you want from a relationship with him. You already know it’s going to be hard work.”

I know exactly what she means, and hard work sounds about right. Do I have the strength for a relationship with him? I hope I do. But I don’t want to be hurting all along the way, because I’m only just finding myself again and don’t want to risk losing that. “Oh Mum, you seem to be able to read my mind clearly,” I say quietly as my gaze falls to the table.

“There will be none of that. Look at me. You never hang your head. You always show your strength, regardless of how you feel. That’s rule number one. The only person who should see deep inside you is the person who loves you with all his heart, because he will know you better than anyone else, inside and out.”

As always, my mother has words of wisdom. She’s right. Alex and I do have to talk, and sooner would be better. I at least have the right to know where I stand with him now, even though a few short days ago I thought I did.

“Right. Enough of all the doom and gloom. We have a good reason to be happy: our beautiful little girl should be coming home soon.” The warmth in my mother’s eyes for her granddaughter is crystal clear.

We spend the next few hours enjoying each other’s company and drinking lots of tea. I sit and listen and watch Jane Stewart, the confident, strong, and independent woman who has an air of grace about her. The love she has for her family is unconditional, and I cannot put into words how I feel about her.

We leave the hotel together and head over to the hospital for a visit with Lucy. Ethan is overjoyed when we arrive. The doctors said she can go home tomorrow, which Ethan is overjoyed about. I’m looking forward to spending Friday with her, although Ethan wants me to stay at his house with her. I completely understand that. I’m just happy that he’s getting his baby back home. I leave them at the hospital early in the evening because I have Kirsty coming over, and I want to call Alex.

I KICK OFF MY SHOES
and change into some leggings and a big comfy sweater, knowing Kirsty will be dressed the same way for a night of food and drinks. I lie down on my bed and stare blankly at my phone. He still hasn’t reached out to me. Do I want to make this call? Am I just setting myself up for a fall? I press “Call” before I change my mind and am surprised when he answers straight away.

“Libby . . .” God, I’ve missed the sound of his voice. I didn’t realise how much until he spoke.

“Alex.”

“Is everything alright?” He exhales harshly. He sounds cold, distant. I don’t think I can put myself through this torture. No, I know I can’t put myself through it.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” I lie, closing my eyes. I don’t know why. It’s not as though he can see the tears that are building.

“Can we talk later? I’m in the middle of something just now,” he says curtly. Later. He wants to talk later.

My anger gets in the way and side tracks me from what I want to say. “No, Alex, we can’t talk later,” I snap. “I’ll say what I want to say now, because there will not be a later. You’ve hurt me in more ways than I thought possible. If you had only taken a few minutes of your precious time to call and explain—but you couldn’t even do that. You say you love me one minute and then treat me like nothing, a nobody. From now on, I am nobody to you, so you and I have nothing further to say to each other.”

“Libby, trust me, please—”

I end the call. I stay on the bed sobbing for what seems like an eternity. I don’t even have an explanation for why I’m crying. I’m the one who just ended whatever sort of relationship we had. He’s never lied to me, but I need to trust someone to be honest and open with me.

The buzzing of the intercom startles me. Kirsty. I buzz her in and head downstairs to meet her. I’m not even sure I want anything to eat. Kirsty was bringing some Chinese food with her. I just need to provide plates, cutlery, and wine. And boy, we’ll almost certainly be going through more than one bottle tonight.

I meet her at the bottom of the stairs.

“Libby, Libby,” she calls, dashing toward me. “What’s happened? Is it Lucy?”

“No. Lucy’s fine,” I tell her through my tears. “I’ve just ended things with Alex.”

“Oh, honey. First things first. Go and wash your face, because I can’t look at those panda eyes. I’ll plate up the food and pour the wine. We can talk if you want, and if you don’t, we can just sit and watch crappy TV and get drunk. If you want me to stay with you, I can.”

I nod because I can’t find the right words to say.

“Now go.” She waves me away.

When I return, I find her in the living room. She’s flicking through the channels. There are two plates filled with food and two large glasses filled with white wine. I join her on the couch. We don’t speak as I get settled and she hands me a plate. We sit in silence. Kirsty always understands me; she doesn’t push for information and knows when I’m ready to open up. I pick at my food and do eat some. The wine is more appealing than the food; it’s going down easily.

When it’s clear to Kirsty that I have finished playing with the food, she clears the plates away and brings in the opened bottle of wine.

“Do we need anything else before I get comfy?” she asks, standing in front of me.

“No. We’re good.”

“Do you want to talk?” she asks.

“Yeah, we can talk, but when I turn into a blubbering mess, feel free to slap some sense into me.”

“Alright. That I can do. Start talking—and start with everything that happened in New York first. Don’t leave anything out,” she tells me.

We sit cross-legged, facing each other on the couch, and I tell her everything about my trip—what a total bitch Katherine is, Alex’s family and our time together, and of course the fact that he wants me in New York with him. She doesn’t interrupt as I speak. She just watches me closely.

We drink our wine as I talk until we finish the first bottle. Kirsty stops me so she can go into the kitchen and returns with another bottle of dry white.

I tell her all about Connor’s engagement party, not leaving out any details. She still sits patiently, listening to it all—James, Katherine, and then the allegation and my return home.

“Honey, that is some bedtime story. Life is never going to be dull with Alex around.”

“He won’t be around,” I tell her sharply. “Did you not hear me earlier when I said I ended things?”

“Yes, honey, I heard what you said, but I know you don’t mean it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me what’s happened since you’ve been home.”

Here we go. Kirsty will dish out advice at the end of this, I know it. I suppose I should humour her. So I tell her everything, every last detail right down to our earlier call.

“I get he should’ve been in touch,” she says. “I get that—I do—but I also think he will have a valid reason for doing things the way he has.”

“But—” I start.

“No buts and no interruptions. I heard you out. Now it’s my turn.” If this were anyone else, maybe I’d take it seriously, but it’s Kirsty. All I can do is laugh at her. “Now, if you have quite finished with the laughing, I’ll continue.”

I nod.

“You love him. I would have to be blind not to see it. That look on your face, the sparkle in your eyes at the mere mention of his name. Even now when you’re trying to be angry with him, I still see it. Don’t you think Sophie was right in her e-mail? Alex sees Katherine as unfinished business. He wants to tidy up all the loose ends in his past so he can move forward with you. He loves you. Your call earlier? It won’t be the last you hear from him, you can be sure of that.”

“What makes you so sure?” I ask.

“Because a man like him always gets what he wants. And he has made it clear he wants you.”

“But—”

“Libby, don’t you dare tell me you don’t want him. You and I both know if he were to walk through those doors right now, your body would react to him. So I won’t have you sit there and try to tell me you want nothing more to do with him.”

“Okay, I won’t, but he could have at least been in touch when he left the police station. Instead I find out what’s going on by seeing it on TV. What would you do?” I ask.

“You have to hear him out before making a decision that could affect the rest of your life. Deal with one thing at a time.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“I’m always wise. I just choose when I let others see it. People assume I’m a stereotypical blonde.” She laughs and we fall into our familiar routine of watching crappy television and drinking wine until we’ve polished off three bottles and have passed out on the couch.