Scorch (Virtues & Lies 2)

“Don’t do it again,” she says when I drop my hand to my side, batting Leo’s hold away before getting back to her drink.

“Done.” He straightens and does up his suit jacket. “Let’s go.”

I start for the door of their apartment, trying to ignore their heated exchange in the background.

“You’re upset with me.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It had to be done.”

“I am big enough and ugly enough to fight my own battles. Let me do it.” Her growl almost makes me smile.

Cassie’s grown into herself, and I admire her for it. I admire Leo for helping her do it.

“Nobody touches you, Cass. He’s lucky he didn’t make you cry, because I swear to God, I would wipe him the fuck out. You’re all that matters, you got me?”

“Jesus, you’ve got issues, you know that?”

“I love you.”

The lump in my throat finally dislodges, falling straight to the pit of my stomach.

I love you.

Three small words. Jumbled up or broken apart they are meaningless, but fuck, they’re tearing me apart.

When was the last time I even said them?

“I love you too,” Cassie sighs softly.

It makes me wonder if I’ll ever hear them again.

Opening the door, I bring it to a soft close behind me as I wait by the lift. The dark grey marble and granite walls and floors are hard and cold. Empty.

An uncanny resemblance to my being.

“Let’s go,” Leo says, hitting the call button.

We ride down to the garage in silence. A storm whips around my thoughts, colliding and shattering like tempestuous seas. The yearning to see my wife is the only withstanding need. I have to see her with my own eyes.

She’s the only thought that braves all the chaos as we make our way to Heath House in silence.

When the driver stops outside, I’m instantly searching the affluent London street for any sign of her.

“Remember what you told me the night of Freddie’s party?” Leo asks, stepping out onto the pavement. He looks in his element. “Don’t fuck this up. It’s business.”

What? “Business?”

“Heath House is expanding; they need investors. We need an in into their business.”

Pulling my dinner jacket closed over my vest, I take a deep breath. Every part of me is buzzing. With every step we take up to the glossy black door, the closer I feel to her.

We’ve always had this pull that goes beyond anything physical; it’s how I knew she was it for me.

Even when we quarrelled, it never felt like something unsurmountable. Our bond is always stronger than anything else. It has an identity of its own. One that can’t be altered or severed by menial tiffs.

Except, this isn’t a tiff. We didn’t argue. We didn’t fight. Our life fell apart, and she left me. She didn’t give me the chance to toil for her.