Page 133 of Every Silent Lie
I wipe my eyes on a sniff, press my lips to the glass pane over his grinning face, and then put him back in the window to go get myself ready.
I’m not sure who the woman in the mirror is, in a gold dress, her dark hair loosely pinned up with perfect soft waves tumbling imperfectly. Her cheeks glow, her eyes are smoky, her lashes thick and long with mascara. I peek down my bare legs to the dainty cream suede stilettos that I found at the bottom of one of the endless boxes. No tights. Tights ruined the look, but it’s sub-zero out there.
I put in some pearl droplet earrings as I go to the cupboard in the hallway and pull out my long cream coat, swinging it on.
And I’m ready.
An hour early.
I tie the belt of my coat and go to the fridge, considering a drink to settle my nerves. Just a little. I pull out the orange wine Mr. Percival gave me and check the label. “Maybe not,” I murmur. Thirteen percent? No. I want a clear head for the rest of this day. I close the fridge and sit down at the table. Get back up. Pace through to the lounge.
After a few laps, I snag my phone and call an Uber. I can’t sit around waiting; I’ll talk myself out of this. I grab my purse, and leave, and as soon as outside comes into view past the glass door, I stop and look down at my cream suede shoes. They’ll be ruined before I even make it to the curb. “Damn it.” I hurry back to my apartment and get my wellington boots, removing my heels and slipping my feet into them. I catch a full-length reflection of myself in the door when I make it back there—a gold dress and wellington boots. “My God,” I mumble, passing through and trudging down the path. Headlights glow at the end of the street, and my ride rounds the corner a second later as I tread the snowy ground to the curb, my toes already icy given the lack of socks.
“Camryn?” the driver asks when I open the back door.
“That’s me.” I settle in the seat and call Dec, but it rings off and goes to voicemail. I don’t leave a message, deciding to wait for him to call me back instead.
I’m only five minutes from his place when he finally does.
“Don’t tell me you’re calling to cancel,” he says before I’ve had a chance to even say hello. “I’ll be devastated.”
“I’m not calling to cancel. I was ready early and was hanging around so thought I’d head to your place to save you coming to pick me up.”
“Or you missed me and couldn’t wait to be back in my arms.”
“And that,” I admit, unabashed.
“What’s your ETA?”
“Four minutes.”
“See you in four minutes.”
“Okay.” Smiling, I hang up and mentally count down those four minutes until the driver pulls up. “Thank you.” I hop out and take my time up the steps to Dec’s house, then swap my wellies for my heels when I’m at the door, setting my boots to the side and unfasten the belt of my coat before I reach for the doorbell.
My finger doesn’t make it to the button. The door swings open, and it’s all I can do not to faint on the spot when I see him, his trousers half fastened, his shirt hanging open, his hair still damp from his shower. I drop my gaze down the entire length of his tall body. Bare feet.
“Look at you,” he whispers, reaching for my hand and tugging me inside, slamming the door. He pushes my coat off my shoulders and inhales as he drinks in the dress. “Wow.” Feeling awkward, I shift on the spot, my gaze dropping. But not for long. He slips a finger under my chin and lifts my face again, finding my eyes. “You’re very beautiful,” he says gently. “And I’ll keep telling you that until you start believing it again.” Sweeping one of the many loose strands off my face, he moves in and kisses me gently, and I close my eyes, absorbing his softness, breathing him into me. He doesn’t advance the kiss—there’s no tongues—but the impact is still so powerful and devastating.
He totally overwhelms me.
“I need to finish getting ready,” he murmurs as he pulls away.
“What a travesty.”
He grins. “Come.” Pulling me along, he leads us into the kitchen and sits me on a stool, pouting down at my dress again. “Totally made for you.”
I put both of my feet on the footrest and watch as he goes to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine. “Just a small one,” I say, making him turn as he grabs two glasses from the glass cabinet that’s dedicated solely to glasses of every variety. “I want to remember today.” It’s a first—for me to want to remember any day—and his small, understanding nod settles me more. Dec pours just an inch and brings it to me, perching on the stool next to me. I accept, struggling to keep my eyes to myself when his shirt’s open like that, revealing a slither of his lovely chest. But then he takes a small sip, tilting his head back, and my eyes have something else to stare at. He’s trimmed his scruff. “You’re very handsome,” I muse, reaching for his face and feeling. And he lets me, still and quiet while I smooth my palm down his cheek, until it reaches the corner of his mouth and he turns into it, keeping his eyes on me as he kisses my palm.
“I better finish getting ready or we might not make it out.” He sets his glass down and stands, leaning into me so I’m forced to bend back on my stool. “Give me a sec,” he breathes.
“Okay.”
The moment he’s gone, I take a breath and face the island, holding on to my glass as I take in his kitchen again. Spotless. Not a crumb littering the work surface, and no dirty glasses or plates in the sink. Even the dishcloth is folded neatly and draped over the huge nickel shower tap.
I hear movement behind me and turn to see Dec’s back, his hands full. He puts his shoes and socks on the island, along with a belt, a jacket, and a blue tie that has delicate white polka dots on it. He starts fastening the buttons of his shirt, and I secretly sulk at the loss, pouting harder when he undoes his trousers to tuck it in. I peek up at him and find his eyes shining, hinting to an invisible grin. I scowl a little and take my first small sip as Dec perches on the stool again and pulls on a pair of fancy blue striped socks, lifting his trouser legs, revealing his shin, the dark hair thick. His feet slip into his brown brogues, and he stands and lifts his chin, fastening the top button.
Eyes on me.
