I give her a smile of thanks, then force my eyes back to my plate and away from Alexa.
I know why Mum made this meal. Yes, it’s my favourite. But, more than that, she’s doing just what she said she would: she’s getting us to face up to the past head-on, in the hope that we can all move on.
Move on?
I manage to prevent the shake of my head as I take a forkful of food and chew it. My eyes drift back to Alexa, as they seem determined to do at every opportunity, and the past comes back to haunt me... The night we last had this meal. The night I let my anger get the better of me and made the decision to leave both my family and my fiancée.
It was the night Dad made his announcement regarding the company, confirming my ingrained suspicion that I would never stack up, that Liam would always outshine me. There’d been no discussion, no warning, no three strikes and you’re out. He’d just gone and done it—written me out of the company as he wrote my brother in.
The food sticks in my throat and I force it down. I’m not angry about my dad’s decision any more. I’m not bitter about it.
The past seven years have taught me about graft—the real hard graft of putting in the hours and proving your worth. Something my brother had done in spades back then and I had not. I’ve also had the last three months with Mum, talking to her, seeing it through my father’s eyes, and although I may not agree with how my
father went about it, I can forgive his reasoning now.
What I can’t forgive is Liam. Liam and Alexa.
Their betrayal. Hers.
I glare at her now, and resent that my anger eases at the sight of her looking so pale. She’s gone from flushed pink to deathly white, the smattering of freckles along her nose and cheeks striking out against the pallor of her skin. And I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t be concerned with her discomfort. I hate that she makes me feel anything, but she does.
It will never be forgiveness, though, never love.
She wears no make-up today, and it riles me to admit that she looks all the more appealing for it. The reddish tone of her feather-like lashes setting off the blue of her eyes. Eyes which look even bigger with her auburn waves pulled back, her ponytail softened by the strands that fall free, all casual and sweet.
And her freckles—God, those freckles. They tease me, making my fingers itch with the need to trace their pattern like I’ve done a thousand times before. It was a lifetime ago, but I remember that path like it was only yesterday.
Does she have more now? More to discover, more to trace, more to kiss and tease?
My cock pulses, but so too does my heart. I bite back a curse and look for safety in my dish instead, only I have no stomach for food now.
She chose Liam. She married Liam. You weren’t good enough for her. Remember that.
‘How was your park run this morning, Alexa?’
Mum’s been trying to get us to talk, and now that Alexa’s plate is cleared and she can’t stuff her mouth full she has to answer. I know this has been her tactic, because it’s been mine too.
She smiles at Mum, but this time it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Not like earlier, when her smile shone with such love and affection for my mother that it lit me up from head to toe, strangling any warning my brain tried to give.
‘I managed to get a PB...although I think that had more to do with Ed dictating the pace than me.’
Ed? Now my ears prick up.
‘Quite eager, was he?’
Eager?
Alexa laughs softly, and the easy sound has my heart dancing in my chest.
‘Very. I haven’t the heart to rein him in either; he’s too irresistible by far.’
Are they seriously talking about a guy? In front of me? Do they have no shame? No feelings? Fuck. Maybe three months really is all it takes for Alexa...
‘Ed?’
They both look to me, and I see a faint flush of colour in Alexa’s cheeks.
‘Why, yes, love. Alexa takes Ed out for a run every Saturday and Sunday,’ she announces proudly. ‘Her neighbour works weekends, so it helps them out.’