Tempting - Lucian Alex. Страница 31
Nathan nodded, didn’t meet my eyes. “She is, sir.”
Richard turned back to me. “And how is it, being under the tutelage of my son?”
If I had been drinking anything, I would have choked. His son. His fucking son. No wonder Nathan looked like he’d swallowed razor blades.
“Um, would you like a drink?” I asked, completely avoiding answering his question.
“Coffee, with a little cream.”
I noticed Nathan stare down at his own cup, the same order as his father, before I busied myself making his order. Richard and Nathan spoke to one another as Richard placed cash on the counter for the coffee. Over the sounds of the coffee maker, I couldn’t hear what they were saying, so I took the opportunity to watch Nathan squirm under his father’s questions.
As I handed Richard his cup, I heard him say, “Are you going to visit Diana? Your anniversary is coming up.” I was so focused on the way Nathan’s face paled that I nearly missed what his father had actually said.
I watched as Nathan put an arm on his father’s shoulder, steering him away from the counter.
Who the fuck was Diana?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maybe she didn’t hear him.
Maybe she didn’t hear him.
I was sure I answered him at some point, said something ambiguous, trying desperately not to look over at Adele, even though I could see her frozen in my peripheral vision.
Five minutes ago, I hadn’t thought it possible that I could be derailed from the abject panic at my father knowing her, and realizing that she was a scholarship student. It definitely sharpened the forbidden edges of our—whatever the hell we were calling this—thing.
But God, I hope she hadn’t heard what he’d said about Diana. Then I wanted to pull my heart through my chest, possibly use a hacksaw to do it. Because it was only four days away from the anniversary of her death—one of the largest failures in my life. The one that pressed bricks of cement down on my skin every time I thought about it.
And I hadn’t thought about it once over the past week. Some sort of horror must have eclipsed my face, because my father paused, giving me a strange glance.
“Yes, sometime this week I’ll go, I’m sure.”
Adele gave a soft clearing of her throat, and my father reached for his coffee with a smile. I don’t think I’d ever gotten that kind of a look. He rocked back on his heels, one of his tells that he was mildly uncomfortable. When he opened his mouth to say something, I gestured to a table.
“I was about to sit; would you care to join me?”
We both stood there, so close to Adele, my heart hammering in my chest.
“You’re asking me to join you,” he said slowly. I could feel her stare, searing into my skin like a brand. I was probably sweating. “Son, the day will pass like it always has. No need to rehash a tragic accident.”
Shit. Damn. Fuck. Fucking shit. And then like a fucking idiot, I stole a glance over at Adele, and her mouth was hanging open. When I snatched my eyes away from her and back at my father, he was justifiably confused.
“I don’t particularly need one of my students hearing this, sir.” I didn’t know if I said it softly enough so she wouldn’t hear. I could barely hear past the rushing in my ears. This was exactly what I did not need, on top of everything else.
“Ahh, of course, of course.” He gave another polite smile to Adele. “Good to see you again, Miss Morello. I hope you continue to do well in your studies.”
“Thank you,” she said in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Good to see you, too.”
Not waiting to speak to him again before he turned to leave, I walked to a small round table by the brick fireplace as he walked past, out the door. I kept my profile to Adele, not wanting to face her directly. Pulling a notebook out of my bag, I stared unseeing at the lined page. She knew my father. And she probably knew something about Diana. Neither one of those things had anywhere to go in my brain in order to process.
“Are you finished with your cup?”
I looked up at Adele after quickly glancing around to make sure no one was looking. The shop was fairly empty, a student sitting on the opposite side, paying us no attention. Only one other girl was working with Adele, and she was nowhere in sight.
For the first time since I’d met her, she looked unsure. Her fingers were tightly woven together in front of her apron, and the look on her face made me want to snap the handle off my coffee mug just so I would have something to stab myself in the eye with. It was curiosity mixed with just a little pity. But on the edge of that was a mulish jaw. This girl was done with me yanking her around.
“You know my father.”
“That’s not why I came over here, and I think you know it.”
I heaved out a sigh, abso-fucking-lutely not willing to bring up Diana first. “Well, we’ll need to discuss it eventually. You being a scholarship recipient makes a huge—”
“You have a wife?” she interjected, whispering harshly. “Or girlfriend, I don’t really know. I just know there’s something pretty major that you’re not telling me.”
For a moment I wondered whether my face looked as weary as I felt. Pretty major. Yes, it was pretty major. It was also a massive understatement. And not a single word of defense crossed my tongue. Just pictures, memories and nightmares that always hovered at the edges of my sleep.
“Just tell me something true, Nathan.” When I looked at her again, her eyes were huge and pleading. She was so young, with moments like that highlighting it for me. At that age, would I have been willing to make that kind of request, the kind that could so easily be rejected? “Please,” she whispered.
I drew my thumb across the calloused skin underneath the ring finger on my left hand. Adele immediately honed in on the movement and narrowed her eyes.
“I was married. But I’m not anymore.” She lifted both eyebrows. And? I could practically hear her saying it. My brain raced, trying to loosen the iron fisted grip that had been over my tongue for the last almost four years. Something true, that’s all she was asking. “It’s hard for me to talk about this, Adele. To anyone.”
She moved to sit, but stopped herself, looking back over her shoulder. Her coworker still hadn’t returned. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“It’s not that,” I reassured her, rubbing a hand down my face. “She … Diana. That’s my wife. She, well, she … died. In a car accident, years ago.”
Simplification and omission. They were the grayest of areas when it came to lies, weren’t they? No part of that was a lie. Not a single word. But the way her face fell, the way she looked at me just a little bit differently, that was exactly why I never wanted to talk about this.
“I’m so sorry, Nathan,” Adele moved to touch my shoulder but I shook my head. The door to the back room swung open, and the other girl working resumed her place behind the cash register.
“How long do you work tonight?” I asked, almost desperate to change the subject.
“Until eight.”
I nodded, starting to file the items on the table back into my messenger bag.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Here? Yes, Adele. That’s it.” I stood, looping the handle of the bag over my head. “I don’t like to talk about her. It’s too hard. And I’m especially not going to do it in your workplace, where anyone we know could walk in.”
She relented, standing back a step after grabbing my still full coffee cup off of the table. “I can respect that.”
“Thank you,” I said, and made sure she could see that I meant it, dropping my chin so that our eyes held for a few seconds longer than they should have, considering where we were. My skin prickled, that chain that hadn’t seemed to drop, the one that had shackled us together since that first night, it tightened along the whole length of my body. With a quick glance behind her, I reached forward and slid my fingers along the inside of her wrist. Her eyes fell shut, and I took a step back, not trusting myself any further. “Have a good night, Adele.”