Hey my lovely readers, I want to sincerely apologize for not updating all this while. Thank you so much for being patient with me, and also for the love you've shown this book. I appreciate you all.
Kelvin stood frozen where he was, his own face contorted by a jolt of shock. Adrian strolled along the twisting path, slumped shoulders, downward-glancing eyes darkening. He wasn't the confident, neatly dressed friend Kelvin was used to."I need to speak with you," Adrian said to him."Let's go inside," Kelvin said quietly as he pushed open the door to welcome Adrian into the living room. Kelvin cursed himself inwardly at the mess within—books lay scattered everywhere, cushions wildly scattered, and even the coffee table had been scratched from his mad searching session earlier. He felt a heat rise to his face. "Sorry for the mess." I, uh, lost something. Been searching for it all night."Adrian did not seem to listen. He crossed over to the window armchair and collapsed into it, his bulk seeming to fill out the worn cushions. His face was ghastly pale in the bad light, his hands shaking a little on the chair arms, fingers drumming a rhythm Kelvin knew all too well.“If you’ve got a d
Kelvin's unease strained to a breaking point as he strode back and forth in the center of the lounge, the room laughing at him good-naturedly with emptiness. He launched his look about furiously, his eyes running over the coffee table, the couch, the borders of the carpet, as though the book had fallen into some unseen crevice. His rational brain knew it wasn't there; he'd looked in every nook and cranny in desperation. But his head refused to be rationalized, still reeling crazily in a vicious circle of the same thing:What did I do with it?He tried to reel back, but the recollections were hazy, as though they'd been scrubbed away. There was a hut. The meeting with the car attendant. That shock of suspicion he'd felt, feeling that book was a risk, one he'd forgotten in his haste to leave. And then. nothing. He recalled pushing the small, tattered book into his pocket, but his thoughts after that were a vacuum.The options churned and bubbled in his mind. If he'd left it there, anyon
"Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Lilian?" Doris asked over the phone, worry corrugating her tone. She had called to inquire whether they could spend time together—something they'd both neglected in the wake of Lilian's attack. Doris had been overseas in China when it happened, on an important work assignment, and hadn't returned until a few days prior.Lilian hesitated, lacing her flats by the front door. Her lips were clamped into a tight smile. "I'm sure. I think this is the best way to get over Chris. I mean—how else am I going to fall in love with someone else if I don't make myself available?"She'd admitted to the fact: those hesitant, uncertain kisses with Jack. Weeks, they'd been creating—banishing isolation, constructing hope—but only a brief touch had happened.Doris swallowed, thought. "Yeah, but don't you think you're rushing into this—how long have you known him?""Four and a half months," Lilian said, brushing a lock of hair from behind her ear. "But wait, why
Joan hadn't expected it. Lilian's tone cut through the supermarket like a blade:"Joan, you went out of your way to move out of my sight so Chris would notice you. Even during our marriage, you tried to flirt with him to your best ability, but he never reacted.".Yes, he was not in love with me, but I was his wife while you were just a secretary, and one whom he was not even sexually attracted to. So, I pose the same question: how does it feel to know that you will never be his woman? That he will never think of you as anything other than his secretary? How does it feel to realize that he does not consider you woman enough? That he would rather be with me, despite hating me, than be with you as his mistress? And how does it feel to realize you would not stand a chance now that Rita was reclaimed?One jab after another, Lilian vomited truth too hot to handle. She looked at hard-won contentment. Joan's lips curled with rage as she spat, "You ugly bitch!" and struck.Lilian moved out of
Kelvin shut the front door behind him, hoping that the frame would keep out what was on the other side. His heart pounded. While between them there existed space, as in an unpaid car, the detectives' thudding foot noises lagged back and climbed up the drive. Why? He slumped into an armchair and was compelled to lie back in it.It was that scary a moment that he could not shake his head, looking calm. He was scared yet determined. Was he aware that he was scared?He forced himself to take a breath, trying to bring his heartbeat back to some less panicked realm. Get it together,' he instructed himself. The second they figure out what is happening, I'm dead. Kelvin sat on the small end table, glaring intensely at his phone as he stood up. Adrian. He needed to call Adrian. He felt a flash of fear as he dialed with his fingers, each number a reminder of the danger at hand.The phone rang, but waiting made him get the creeps. Come on, Adrian, pick up. They might be at your doorstep any minu
As Commissioner Cruz's car rolled along the deserted, grassy driveway, Bill Darcy said nothing. Fists in bulging pockets, he entered the lounge with the tension of the visit on his shoulders. He sat in a chair with his eyes closed, attempting to relax as the sensation persisted, just as abruptly as the pungent smell of wet ground outside. Footsteps down the corridor followed after a few seconds. As she entered the room, Sandra rested her eyes on him.She spoke in a tone that resounded with a coarse and insensitive response, "Oh! He's gone?"There was coldness and calmness in Darcy's voice, which was a confirmation of a suppressed reaction. "Yes," he replied.His hand resting firmly on her waist, he placed it on her dress cloth and looked up at it. She looked back, her eyes clouded with more than interest; the color of unease, a hint of hidden fear in the depths of her eyes."What did he want, Bill?" Her tone was soft now, but a strand of desperation threaded through. "Or shouldn't I a