Page 71 of Alfie: Part Two

West was in the kitchen again, this time inspecting the wineglasses.

I took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No. I’m angry.” He didn’t look away from what he was doing. “I trust you can relate.”

Yeah, I still felt the distance, and we needed to nip this in the bud before we went on to talk about what we’d seen in the car.

Nerves fluttered and tightened in my stomach, and I took a step closer. “I’m gonna tell you something—we said we were gonna be stupidly honest all the time, but lately, I feel you’re keeping something from me,” I said. I swallowed dryly as he stopped and turned toward me. “And it doesn’t have to be big or bad or whatever,” I added. After all, I didn’t wanna blow shit out of proportion. “Just…something’s changed—you’re a little colder in general—and now I want you to say yes, something has changed, rather than get defensive and tell me I’m wrong because I’m not wrong. I know you, and I see it. Something’s happened. Something’s changed. You’re a little different. Please admit it.”

Okay, shut the fuck up.

I drew in a breath and waited.

He was infuriatingly unreadable, merely staring at me, and for every second that ticked by, the distance grew. The noose around my throat was back, because I couldn’t fucking take it. We’d been so happy.

Please, baby. Talk to me. I need you.

Eventually, he dropped his gaze to the counter, and his jaw ticked the way it did when he was struggling with something.

“It hasn’t been my intention to hide anything,” he said quietly. “I’m still figuring things out—but you’re right. Something is changing.”

Funny how that admission both terrified me and offered a pinch of relief. It meant the world that he’d answered honestly, but goddamn, if he’d changed his mind about us, I was going to break into a million fucking pieces.

“Okay, so—” I had to clear my throat because it was closing up. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this couldn’t be happening. “Can you walk me through it? Tell me if I can fix anything? Is it me? If it’s too much with everything?—”

“What?” He snapped his gaze up and frowned. “Why would you—” As if something dawned on him—fuck if I knew—a breath gusted out him, and he closed the distance between us and hugged me tightly.

Thank fuck.

My eyes welled up in a heartbeat, and I hugged him back just as hard.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

“Never,” he whispered vehemently. “It’s my outlook on the world, on society—notyou. I’m walking around like a ticking timebomb, and the whole situation with Giulia’s made me feel so fucking helpless.”

I screwed my eyes shut and let the relief wash over me.

Fuck me, I was almost dizzy with it.

“The reason I haven’t taken my mother’s calls is because I can’t bring myself to give a shit anymore,” he admitted. “I’ve lived my whole life keeping my mouth shut and accepting their ivory-tower view of our society—the same ivory tower I grew up in. And I’m done.”

I sniffled and inched back to look him in the eye, and I wanted to hear his thoughts. This was clearly something that had bothered him for some time.

“I’m exhausted,” he murmured. “I’m sick of worrying about if I’m a good man or not, what the right thing to do is, and how to justify my wish to make those sons of bitches die a painfuldeath.” He let out a breath and rested his forehead to mine, and his eyes fell closed. “The past few weeks, it’s been building up inside me slowly. I wondered if I was being ungrateful for not appreciating my mother more—because you never know what could happen—but then I felt sick to my stomach.”

I cupped his cheek and scratched the back of his head.

“I don’t think I want them in our lives anymore,” he confessed. “I know what they stand for, who they defend, who they’re against, and what they value. And I don’t share any of it. The thought of sitting down with them for some fucking brunch, listening to them talk about…whatever the fuck…all while the people I truly care for?—”

“Hey,” I whispered. “You don’t have to. Let it all go. Okay?”

He drew a deep breath through his nose, eyes still closed.

“Most importantly, you can change your mind,” I continued. “Maybe we can let the kids see them…? If not now, then down the road. Or not at all, you know. I was just thinking—we talked about this once. That it’s better for Trip and Ellie to discover for themselves that your folks are…you know. And hey, maybe your nephews will grow up to be more like you. Maybe they’ll be little dicks. In which case, Ellie will put them in their place.”

He exhaled an unsteady chuckle.

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