When she nodded, he went back to poking around the living room that she had converted into her studio. The wide wood table she had found in a flea market stood tilted to catch the sunlight from the sliding glass doors. And taped to it with a clip was the penultimate chapter of Ms. Havisham’s story.
With hands that were obviously trembling, he ran a finger over the last box on the page. The one where Ms. Havisham was standing over Spike’s immobile body. He looked at her then, and the stark expression in his eyes knocked the breath out of her. “She has killed him then?”
Swallowing the tears catching in her throat, Lexi nodded. “In this draft, at least.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She rubbed the heel of her palm over her eyes. “I can’t decide on an ending. I’m meeting a freelance publisher guy in two days, but I’m still not sure. She has to show Spike what she’s capable of so that he doesn’t underestimate her ever again, but maybe she’ll just maim him. Maybe she will turn him into her sidekick, who knows?”
He blinked. And she realized it was to shield his expression from her face. “You’re enjoying this immensely, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I have totally embraced the fact that Spike’s life is in my hands and I can inflict whatever damage I can on him.” She raised her thumbs up, a parody to cover up the misery she felt inside. “Once again, it’s delusional fantasy to the rescue.”
Shaking his head, he picked up the rest of the pages of the strip from the table and flicked through them. “You have done a lot in one week.”
She shrugged. “The money you paid me will tide me over for a few months if I work minimal hours. I decided it’s now or never to give this a proper shot.”
“That’s fantastic.” His gaze lingered on her hungrily before he resumed pacing again, a restless energy pouring off him in waves.
She fisted her hands, stifling the urge to pummel him. How dare he just dangle the announcement that his engagement was off but not say more? But she would not ask for details.
Her sudden movement caused his hard chest to graze against her, and he jerked back like a coiled spring.
“Will you stop the pacing? You’re beginning to scare me, Nikos. What happened? Is everyone okay?”
“Yes, they are all fine. Venetia is driving Tyler and me crazy planning the wedding of the century.”
Lexi’s heart sank. Venetia and she, despite all odds, had struck a weird sort of friendship. They both loved Tyler, and it created a surprisingly strong connection despite their different temperaments. But because of the inconsiderate, intractable brute in front of her, Lexi was missing all the fun. “They have set a date?”
“Yes. For eighteen months from now. You would think she was the first woman to get married. I have renewed respect for Tyler that he was able to persuade her at all to a date so far away.”
She hadn’t spoken to Tyler in a week, and even before that only to assure him that she had reached New York safely—like a flight on a private jet would be anything but—and that she was fine. He knew she was not fine. But she hadn’t wanted to linger for an extra day, so she had promised him that she would take care of herself. But she couldn’t talk to him over the phone. Because if she did, she was going to start crying, and she didn’t want to alarm him.
Because more than the threat of loneliness, it was the shadow of the happiness, the joy she had known with Nikos that remained behind, making her ache. And now he was here again, setting her back to square one. Not that she had made much progress in moving on.
She still had a couple of weeks before she went back to work and she had been eating greasy takeout, drawing and crying herself to sleep.
“So your sister is fine, you are still the CEO—” she had never heard so much bitterness in her voice “—then why are you here?”
He stood rooted to the spot. She watched him swallow, watched the dark shadow that fell over his face.
Suddenly she felt exhaustingly fragile. Being in love was so hard. She would have given anything to make it stop hurting so much.
Nikos was looming in front of her before she could draw another breath, running a finger over the bags under her eyes. There was such desolation in his eyes, such open need that she trembled from head to toe. “There’s this tightness in my chest, thee mou, like someone is relentlessly carving away at it. It hurts like nothing I have ever felt before.”
Lexi felt dizzy from the emotion in his words. “You don’t have a heart.” She wanted to sound cutting, instead she sounded immensely sad.