Page 75 of Release (Symbols of Love 3)

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” I look up at his face, knowing that his eyes will tell me something. They're always expressive, even when he’s trying to hide his feelings. But in the dark shadow of the old building, its outdoor lighting woefully inadequate, I can't read anything.

"Lilly." He says my name slowly. Like it's a foreign word he's trying to understand and pronounce correctly. The air between us crackles. All at once, I feel like I’ve been transported over oceans and back through time to when we first met three months ago and were so drawn to each other. It’s as potent now as it was then. That inherent attraction, how Harry could see and understand me in ways that no one ever had before, how my body sprang to life and wanted what it had stopped believing in. All this returns from a single touch, from just sharing the same air. It's all still here. And it’s mutual.

Except this time, it’s Harry who has a reason to be pissed off.

This doesn’t compare to a spilled drink in a crowded bar. I lied to him and I mislead him more than once. He has every reason to be angry with me. My legs start to feel like there's nothing holding them up.

"Your mother asked me to give you a ride home, and I’m cold, can we please stop all of these dramatics and go?" Camille says coldly.

"Fine. Thank you,” I say before I look back at Aiden.

I use Aiden’s friendly eyes as my touchstone. I'm afraid that if I don’t hang onto him, I won't be able to stop myself from throwing my arms around Harry and begging for his forgiveness. I’d lose my composure and plead with him to give me just one more night like what we had in Ghana.

When I get close enough, Aiden wraps his arm around me protectively and I let my head fall onto his shoulder. I close my eyes and savor the support and kindness he’s giving me for an instant.

Between my family's indifference or willful ignorance and Harry's malevolence, I feel in desperate need of someone to lean on. Unlike the countless other times when I've felt this way, Aiden is actually here for me.

Aiden presses a kiss to my temple and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"Okay. So, which way to the car?" he asks. When no one moves, and no one speaks, I look at Harry.

If anger could be distilled and given substance—be made into flesh and blood—it would look like Harry does right now. His handsome features are contorted with jealousy.

"This way," Harry clips out. He and Camille walk ahead of us, her arm wrapped around his.

I wrap my arm around Aiden's waist and on legs that feel like they've been injected with lead, I make myself follow them to the car.

Whatever was between us most certainly isn’t water under the bridge. He’s still angry. His anger does nothing to extinguish my feelings for him. I long to feel the safety and the wholeness I once felt in his arms. If I'm not careful he'll have me on my knees, at his feet, begging him to forgive me.

25

Harry

"For all intensive purposes, I'm already running the foundation. But we have to wait for Lady Aston to step down before I can be institutioned.” Camille says.

I have to stop myself from correcting her. On a good day, Camille misuses words in a way that still let me discern her true meaning. On a bad day, I just nod or laugh when her word choices are so off that I have no clue what she's talking about.

Not only does Camille mispronounce and misuse words. Her breath also usually smells like she's been eating shit sandwiches.

It's why I've only kissed her once. It's also one of the myriad of reasons I know this relationship is a non-starter.

Only Freya’s enthusiasm for it have kept me from giving Camille her walking papers. I love my sister. I didn’t have anything to lose by just letting it run its course.

Until now. I’ve got feelings for Lilly. If she hadn't shown up who knows what might have happened. I might have married this woman. Though, after what I’d experienced with Lilly, it would feel like settling.

Now though, none of that matters. Lilly’s here and despite how angry I am at her, even if things don’t work out, I know that it's not fair to keep stringing Camille along. I’ll have to deal with Freya being angry at me.

“What the hell is that smell?" This comes from Lilly's boyfriend. It's about the tenth time he's asked since we've been the car. When he asked the first time, it was whisper that I think he only meant Lilly to hear. Now, he’s a few decibels short of a shout.

"I don't smell anything. And honestly my old factory nerves are very strong." Camille responds, emitting more of whatever noxious gas lives in her gut into the car.

I survive these car ride by riding with the windows down and just pretending that what she's saying makes sense. I’m desperate to put the windows down now, but Aiden seems to be in genuine distress over the smell. I like the idea of him suffering. I press the button on my armrest that locks all of the windows.

My discomfort seems a small price to pay to hear him sounding so put out. Maybe he'll be too sick to fuck Lilly tonight.

My stomach roils at the thought of his hands on her. When she rested her head on his shoulder tonight and closed her eyes as if she was tasting heaven, my mouth had gone dry. Any restraint on my anger had dried up like drops of water hitting a sizzling hot pavement. I knew she could see it, that they all could. I didn’t care.

That comfort should have been mine to give. Instead I was standing holding another woman's hand and watching the woman I want, lean on another man.

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