She held herself stiffly, made of reserve and control, all the softness he’d seen walled off, too precious to show to him. She gave him a cautious smile. He’d never needed words that made sense, that could move her, more.
“Is everything okay?” She put her hand to his arm and it triggered the recoil reaction again.
“You’re with Alfie.” An accusation. Her expression collapsed. Fuck. He could rip his own tongue out, grind it to paste under his heel and sprinkle it over his own idiot head.
She dropped her hand, leaned away and wracked her spine to stand taller. “He’s a friend.”
“You’re still at the loft, you didn’t move?” She frowned, adjusted the bag on her shoulder. If he’d cut out his voice box, he’d have done himself less harm. If she walked away it would be to the harsh heavy metal tune of his words. “You—”
“Stop.” Her voice was sharp. “You answer my question. Why are you here?”
His jaw clenched and refused to open, so he spoke from his heart instead. “I forgot something.”
She sucked in a stunned breath. “What did you forget?”
He’d finally found a place to start. The last time she’d asked him that he’d walked out on her. The question needed a different truth now. “I forgot how beautiful you are. I forgot everything Buster taught me about loving someone, choosing them above all else. I forgot how I need to hold you to sleep properly at night. I forgot what matters. I forgot to fight.”
“Oh Mace.” She turned her head away, but not before her eyes glassed over.
He thought of Buster and Don and what they’d lost, what he could still fight for. “I never forgot you. I never stopped loving you.”
Her eyes stayed down. He wanted to see them to know how much new harm he’d inflicted. “I saw your painting. I want to buy it.”
She looked up blinking in surprise. “It’s not for sale.”
If she hated him, surely she’d want the painting gone from her sight. “It’s incredible. It’s a part of you and me I can take back.”
She collected herself, her features realigning around her self-control. “When do
you go?”
He shook his head. “I don’t. I quit.” He took a breath in and shoved it back out. “I came for you.”
“Oh my God, Mace, you can’t quit.” Her starch cracked. She put her bag down. “I know from Jay how well you’re doing, how huge this is. You can’t quit. I gave you up so you could have this.” Her hand came up to her mouth. No chance to stop the words. And he adored their betrayal.
“I’ve given it up for you.”
The painting, the loft, they way she was dressed, her full name. She’d built a different life. Maybe it was one he’d fit. He’d accept whatever conditions she set. The wisp of that idea gave him confidence.
“You can’t do that.”
“It’s done. Your move, Princess.”
She gasped and followed it with a strained sigh that softened her posture.
He couldn’t afford to let her regroup. “Yeah, that’s what I called you. But you’re not severe anymore. You didn’t take a new job. You made a new life.”
She nodded. “I started my own consultancy. Wentworth is my first big client. I could’ve had my old career back, but in the end it was going to cost me more than I was prepared to give. My art, my friends...”
She looked away and he pressed his hands onto the smooth, cool glass behind him because the earth was spinning too fast and he felt like he might fly off into the forever blackness before he had the chance to grab hold of anything solid.
Her eyes came back to his and they saw his wild orbit for what it was, desperation, but also love, so much love. Her voice came soft. “Maybe it doesn’t have to cost me so much anymore.”
A handhold in the maelstrom and a raging recall of their first time together. He put his fingertips to it. “Maybe an asteroid will wipe out the earth tomorrow.”
She closed her eyes and her chin dropped. “The world is so uncertain.”
She was the one true thing he needed to anchor him, but if he took hold of her too soon, she might spin away as well and then they’d both be lost. “You have to hug the people you love because you never know when you might lose them.”