“You are, my dear, you are much stronger than you can ever know. They say good men are not born, but I don’t believe in this. Good men make a difference using what they have inside their good heart, and they don’t shy away from it. You are intelligent and cunning. You have a special passion in your heart, I know.” She poked his chest and looked into his eyes. Softly, she stated, “If your parents ever come bothering you again, call me before you do something that will destroy yourself. I will help.”
“Will you?”
“Of course. I need you, Ethan. The world needs you. Everyone has something to give. You have much. Give your heart and soul some time to find peace and you’ll discover it all.”
But only you have looked inside my heart and soul. Only you know this. “I’m not going to let you down, Sophia. I promise you.”
Thank God! “Good. I’m counting on you. I—”
“Sophia.” He uncrossed his arms and grabbed her hands, squeezing them. “If I were one of the women in your foundation…what would you say to me?”
Oh, Ethan. Recognizing the problem is the most difficult step and you have just done this. Hope started to unfold in Sophia’s heart. “Ethan, there is no shame in admitting the extent of your pain.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’m your friend, your partner. I’m here because I admire and love you. I’m profoundly humbled by the way you were treated, survived, and became such an important and generous man. But I cannot say anything to you if you don’t help me and yourself. So, let’s do this together, shall we?”
He nodded and the words tumbled from his mouth, “I was neglected, Sophia. And abused. All I wanted was a bit of love, and even Grandpa, as much as he tried, could not give it to me.” He gestured to himself. “I wanted to be a scholar; to live a simple life. I was forced into becoming this rash businessman, living on appearances, spending money like water, as my parents do. Exactly who I never wished to be.”
The sandy lump she swallowed brought salty tears to her eyes and she had to gather her wits for a moment. “You suffered many painful and damaging experiences early in your life, my dear, but you have yet to realize your life is not doomed by them. Even not being loved and supported by those who should have, you found ways to cope with the emotions generated by the horrible suffering and experiences. In one way or another, you have done this. But what I have seen today, made me fear for you.”
“Why?” Unsettled by her words, he drew himself up against the headboard.
“You’ve never seen a therapist, and have spent your life ignoring the painful feelings, right?”
He blew a harsh breath. “I went to therapists when I was a kid but I never liked them. They want to know too much.”
“What you’ve been ashamed to tell,” she suggested, and he nodded. “Ethan, dear, you’ve avoided all your life getting closer to people. You have tried to hide all your pain and fear. Although I am not an expert, I can fairly say these vulnerabilities could take hold of us.”
“For example?” he asked.
She searched in her mind for his behavior when they were together. “It’s just a theory of mine, but…you have never accepted Gabriela as my daughter. All her childish behaviors bothered you a lot. And…could it be because the relationship I had with her reminded you of your needs as a child? And also, perhaps…you were afraid of getting attached and losing it all again?”
He blinked, incredulous at how she could see so deeply inside him.
“You know, my dear, the more you hide and avoid getting close to friends and people, the more your pain grows. It may create a sense of safety, but it leaves you lonely, it prevents you from sharing experiences, good or bad, and discussing them; listening to what others have to tell you.”
“Loneliness is better than the painfulness of being rejected,” he whispered to her.
Yes, sure. “But there’re a lot of people who won’t reject you. There’s no safety in being alone. It prevents wonderful experiences and true intimacy and trust. Ethan, do you know what is worse? The wrong people, who are just expecting to sink their talons into you, will do it as soon as they sniff the breach, because you’ll be vulnerable, desperately and naïvely putting trust in the wrong people and being betrayed again. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it helps you cope with everything, and one day you could feel free. Start in small doses, until you feel secure enough.”
Few friends, no family, no loyalty freely given, but for yours. Well, it is one to start with. Ethan’s eyes opened slightly and brightened at that. “Yes, darling.”
“At the extreme, getting really drunk can block out painful memories and feelings, including the feeling of being disconnected from others, but cause lots of other problems and totally alienate you from the few friends you really have. That is why I am here today, in your hotel suite, sitting on your bed, for the last time.”
The light from the reading lamp behind her made a strange halo around her long raven hair. He tilted his head to the side and his stare glazed. “Are you saying—” that you are going to abandon me too?
“There comes a point in life where you draw a line and say: ‘That’s it, I’m done. I’ll hurt, but I’ll connect to my feelings, I’ll suffer, but I’ll relearn to deal with my emotions, so I can start again.’ That is what I am saying. It’s not as easy as I have worded it. No.” She shook her head. “I can promise months and years of spiritual pain, but do it, Ethan. I can get you a referral. Meanwhile, you can help yourself. Think about what gives you spiritual pleasure and dive in head first. I know you like to read. Books saved me in my most desperate moments when everything seemed so bleak.”
“I don’t know if I can start again, Sophia. At least, not without someone helping me. I have done many wrong things…” You don’t know how many. “I have trampled on people,” including you. “I’m bound to a hellish life and—”
Oh, good God. “You need to heal from inside out, my dear.” She could see the pain spreading through him and gluing the dark crystal pieces of his heart all wrongly again. “You don’t fool me. You’re a strong man with a good heart. Let this poison be washed away. It’s time to escape the clutches. Any clutches: of your name, of what you didn’t want to be, of what you don’t care about. Be yourself. But don’t use your money to show the world who you are or what you are meant to do, because they will see only it and there’s so much more to you. When you meet all these dark feelings rotting inside, you’ll find peace. Please, Ethan, try. For our friendship’s sake. I’ll not abandon you, but you can’t expect me to keep coming to your hotel suite, understand?”
Yes, I do. You’re married, but you are still my friend. In an effort not to cry, his eyes darkened as a stormy sea. “Why only you, Sophia?”
She knew what he was asking.
Why was she the only one who had seen that his unlit, cracked, and haunted heart was cemented inside a tall, windowless tower; so dark and airless, not even a flower grew inside. Why he’d had so many dreams and not even one had sprouted and made a sweet shade for him. Why they had all been broken and crushed when he was a child. Why he had been forced to grow into a man that he himself abhorred. And why he thought he couldn’t trace a new path to himself.
But she had no easy answers. She sighed. “We maintain problems because they give us a sense of our past identity. If we hold onto our pain far beyond its ability to serve us; if we replay past mistakes over and over again in our head, allowing feelings of shame and regret to remain, they will, for sure, shape our actions in the present.”
“I don’t understand,” he rasped.
This is not a thesis, Sophia. “I did this too much, for too long. You yourself know it. Remember when I kept my distance from you? I was hanging onto pain, drinking the poisoned mistakes that couldn’t be corrected. Don’t cling to frustration, Ethan. Let it go little by little. It’s a small victory each day; a little peace you find for yourself. When you realize, you’ll have won the war and I’ll bake one of my chocolate cakes just for you!”
r /> He gave her a small smile at that.
“My friend,” she said softly, “there’ll never be a time when life is simple, but there’ll be ever a chance to let go and feel peaceful.”
“And why can’t I find this chance?” His eyes filled with tears.
To this question Sophia knew the answer. “Because, you, as any other human being, are lovable, Ethan, but you have to be the first one to love yourself.”
When his arms went around her and his forehead touched her shoulder, Sophia couldn’t deny him the comfort his shaken soul was desperate for. Her arms wound around his trembling torso. She whispered, “Cry, Ethan.”
As Ethan cried like he should have done many times since he was a child, he realized Sophia really loved him.
It was not the way he had previously wanted, but that was not what mattered anymore. Because she loved him in the way that he needed.
Atwood House
10:19 p.m.
Alistair turned off the TV and stretched his arms and legs out in front of him. He turned and lay down, putting his head on Sophia’s lap. “You’re quiet tonight.”
Troubled, tired, sad. Her fingers were instantly drawn to his silky hair. “Alistair Connor, I have to tell you something and I don’t exactly know how, because it’s not my story to tell, and…I went to Ethan’s suite at The Dorchester today, before I came home.”
“Ashford again,” he bit out, willing himself not to frown and to hear her explanation before he did or said something he would regret.
Yes, Ethan again. She threaded her fingers through his hair, distracted. “You know I like and I respect him, but only as a friend.”
“Aye. But, his suite, Sophia? You’re married now.” Alistair Connor! Such an old-fashioned and absurd principle. “Hmm. Forget I just said that.” This is not what’s important.
She had thought about it a lot and decided she could tell part of the truth without disclosing Ethan’s past and still be loyal to Alistair and to herself. “First, I was not alone. Scott was there. I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up. But, that’s not the point. The thing is, I went to Ethan’s and I want you to know what happened. Ethan has serious unsolved problems from his past. He confided in me once and he was in dire need of a friendly shoulder and someone to show him a new path. I went there for two hours or so, and we talked. He asked me to refer him to a therapist and…” She made an elegant, vague gesture with her hand. “That’s it.” I wish it had been that simple.
That’s it?! Nae, Sophia. Unfortunately the sadness in your voice tells me that was not just it. But it also tells me that it has nothing to do with lust or love. He was so lost in his musings and thoughts that he didn’t notice he has staring fixedly at her, almost glaring.
“Are you angry?” she whispered, smoothing his forehead and ink-black eyebrows with the tip of her fingers.
Angry? Nae. He shook his head in silence, still looking at her, enjoying her light caresses. Jealous, maybe. But proud, too. Your righteousness is so strong that even married to an overbearing caveman of a husband, nothing stopped you from doing what you thought right.
“Alistair Connor?” She tilted her head to the side, lost in his shimmering forest-green gaze.
He gripped her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth, pressing a long kiss on its back. “Thank you for telling me, Sophia.”
“I have nothing to hide. This is exactly how I expect us to build our lives, being truthful.”
He understood. “And trusting each other. No matter what.”
“No matter what.”
England, Cambridge, 5 Cranmer Road,
Outside The Lauterpatch Centre for International Law
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
3:59 p.m.
“What is your problem, man?” Zareb asked Devon, who had been brooding all day.
Devon passed his hand back and forth over his cropped hair, nervously. “I’m being blackmailed.”
Zareb’s smile disappeared. “Blackmailed? By whom?”
“An ex-lover.” Sharing his problem with his colleague seemed to have opened the gates to his confused story. “Well, it’s not exactly blackmail. She got pregnant a few months after my wife had our second daughter. I don’t want my wife and children to know, but that’s not the worst of it. She had problems during labor. So she had to stop working because our son requires all her attention. Now, all my money goes to them. My wife wants to know what is happening.”
“Fuck, Devon. Why haven’t you asked for Mrs. MacCraig’s help? A raise or a loan? Or even help from her foundation?”
“How can I fucking explain a shitty story like that to a married woman who is my boss?”
“Then explain it to Mr. MacCraig,” Zareb answered. “He’ll help. He’ll understand.”
Passing his hand again on his head, Devon grimaced. “Yeah, yeah. I will.”
Chapter 14
The City of London Bank Headquarters
In the Main Meeting Room
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
2:55 p.m.
“Alistair Connor,” Berkley said, “they’ve set the meeting date for the beginning of March.”
“You all know I won’t be available then.” Alistair crossed his arms over his chest.
“They have informed us the deal can be canceled if not approved by March fifteenth,” informed Malcolm from the other end of the table.
“And you believe this, Malcolm?” He raised an ironic eyebrow. “We’re one of the most powerful banks in the world now. They can make our work difficult, but cancel the deal?”
“Carnival is a big holiday in Brazil, and they would have a good excuse to travel all together.”
Alistair laughed dryly. “I see you don’t know these guys. They don’t care if they have a good excuse or no’. They do what they want without giving a shit about legislation, terms, or what their people need. They’re just trying to scare us. Let me tell you something, gentlemen: I. Am. Not. Easily scared.” He rose from his chair and walked to the door, but paused before opening it. Fuck! This is too serious to put entertainment first.
He looked over his shoulder and instructed, “See what you can do. If there is no way around it, I’ll be here to face them.”
Chelsea
The Blue Dot
8:07 p.m.
“Couldn’t you have arranged for another day?” Alistair said to Tavish as they entered his blue-marine BMW and huffed. “You knew it could turn into a dinner.”
“Sorry, Alistair Connor, but you know how artists are. I’ve even opened a special date at The Blue Dot for them.”
“You have?” Alistair was impressed. The schedule at the gallery was almost fully booked until the end of the year. “When?”
“They need just two days to set everything up. So, I thought about a grand opening on April fifth, ending the day after the Royal Wedding. We have another exhibition beginning on May third.”
Hmm. “I don’t know. There are many holidays in April.”
“That’s why I managed to fit them in. There was nothing programmed for April but the exhibition of our in-house collection. I’m counting on you to guarantee the exclusivity for us. These brothers are quite slippery.”
“Don’t worry, Tavish Uilleam. That’s my specialty.” Alistair grinned at his brother and fished his iPhone from his inner breast pocket, texting. “I just have to tell Sophia that I won’t be having dinner with her.”
Alistair. 8:09 p.m. - The meeting has turned into a dinner. I’m on my way to the restaurant. Sorry. ☹
Beauty. 8:10 p.m. - Is this dinner going to keep you for long?
Alistair. 8:11 p.m. - I hope not. Prob two hours.
Beauty. 8:11 p.m. - I’ll miss you.
He smiled smugly and texted back.
Alistair. 8.11 p.m. - I know.
Beauty. 8.13 p.m. - Ah, Lord I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it, that’s a pity...I had such a nice surprise for you tonight. Well, enjoy your dinner and pay rapt attention to your partners’ co
nversation. ????
She did it on purpose. Alistair couldn’t believe his eyes. Surreptitiously, he arranged his half-arousal in his trousers. This woman drives me to distraction.
Tavish couldn’t resist when he saw Alistair squirm on the seat. “Do you need more room in your trousers, Brother?”
“Tavish Uilleam.” Alistair glared at his brother, his face illuminated by the light of his phone. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh, aye,” Tavish laughed heartily. “It fucking is.”
Alistair. 8.16 p.m. - Wait until I get home. ☠️ I’ll show you what rapt means.
Alistair could almost hear Sophia chuckling as much as Tavish was. He knew that the dinner would be a long one.
Atwood House, Sophia & Alistair’s bedroom
10:49 p.m.
“Sophia?” Alistair loosened his tie and threw his suit jacket on the armchair. “Sophia. Where are you?”
“I’ll be right there,” she shouted from behind the bathroom door. “Go ahead, and get in the shower.”
He huffed for the umpteenth time that evening and headed to his bathroom, disrobing on the way, and throwing everything in the hamper. Under the shower, he closed his eyes, putting his hands on the marble wall. He let the hot water beat onto his shoulders and back, relaxing and welcoming back in his body the potent lust, which he had leashed during dinner. It had been just the right amount to make him touchy, and the artist brothers afraid of losing a good contract.
His lips curled in amusement. Sophia had turned into an expert in leaving him horny and eager to arrive home.
Alistair finished his shower. While he dried himself, he noticed a folded sheet of paper over a bundle of black leather on the sink.