Page 20 of The Crimson Lily
“What’s the plan for today?” It seems as if asking for the plan has become my signature move.
He doesn’t reply, but casts a quick glance at me.
“You do you, I do me,” he says.
He opens the door and lets me pass through first. We head downstairs, he checks us out, then I go right, and he goes left.
There I am, walking in the sunny street, typing on my phone again.
Hi Alejandro, it’s Liliana. Can you meet me at the Louvre Pyramid today at 3 p.m.?
I found Alejandro Reyes on Facebook. We’re not friends, but I sent him a message request anyway. I got a response not a minute later.
Yes, I’ll be there.
I wait for hours at the nearest cafe, sipping on multiple cups of coffee until it’s time to leave and my hangover is almost gone. I walk the Place du Carrousel again and make it to the pyramid of glass, where I spot Alejandro in a blue T-shirt and beige trousers. He waves at me, takes me in his arms, and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek.
We walk the Tuileries together for a while. I tell him seventy percent of everything. I share the accident, the memory loss, the fact that William may have something to do with all this, my reunion with Béatrice…
“Damn!” he exclaims. “I never believed Béatrice leaked those papers, by the way.”
I smile. I knew I could trust him. Not as much as Béatrice, but Alejandro is far from being a bad guy. That, I just know.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, Lili,” he says, with sadness in his voice—the kind of sadness you don’t know what to do with.
I really just have one question. “What happened between us?”
He looks surprised by my inquiry, then his eyes change. He remembers the memory loss part.
“We dated for a while, then you ended things,” he stutters. He passes his hand repeatedly through his hair and clears his throat a few times. “I wasn’t really feeling nice after that. I saw an opening for a project in Paris, and I took it. I’ve been here for about three months. I’ll be going back to New York in December.”
I lay my hand on his arm, the guilt installing itself. It’s not the first time I’ve felt this way. I just know I felt the same, three months ago, when I ended things with Alejandro Reyes.
“I’m sorry, Alejandro,” I apologize.
He stops his march and looks at me. “I know. You said the same thing last time.”
He forces a smile. I know he’s still hurting, and it hurts me too. That sentiment of remorse still lingers in my heart. What have I done?
“Why did I end things?” I have to ask—I can’tnotask.
He takes a deep breath and starts walking again. Then he looks to his feet and chuckles awkwardly.
“You said it was you, not me.” He tries to say that nicely, but he’s actually begun to sound cynical. “You said you weren’t sure of your feelings. You said you didn’t want to hurt me.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Please, Liliana,” he implores. “Stop saying sorry. Why have you really come here?” His patience has run out. I can see it in his eyes. He stops and turns to face me. “Why did you have a bruise on your face?” he asks with a frown.
I have tears rising in my eyes. I don’t know what to say, nor where to start. I didn’t mention the Bratva. I haven’t mentioned the dagger yet. I have to go from what I said about William.
“I think William is going to do something very illegal,” I say. “And it all has to do with the freaking dagger Béatrice and I found in Siberia.”
“Did William hurt you?” he intervenes, incredulous.
“No!” I have to tell him; I’m on the verge of crying. “I got myself in a real bad mess, Alejandro.”
Everything comes crashing down on me. The accident, finding myself alone for two months, the Bratva at my door, Maksim’s dangerous allure, the memory of a gun, the stranger who yelled at cars, Mr. Zhang, William de Loit. I feel lost. I’m going to crumble, but Alejandro wraps his arms around me. He holds me tight, my face in the crook of his shoulder. My tears want to flow like a torrent, but that doesn’t happen.
