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“You saw it. I wasn’t sure you’d watch.”
“I did. Thank you for doing that. It helped. Life is getting back to normal. I’m still staying with Chance and Colby at the moment, but I may be moving back into my old flat next month.”
“That’s fantastic news,” he enthused, heartened to hear it.
Another pause, this one less awkward than the last.
“Why have you been sending me those texts?” she asked.
“Because I wanted to feel somehow connected to you still, even though I know I don’t deserve it. Why have you been reading them?”
“Curiosity. And also… I wanted to know how Luna was doing. Why didn’t you stop when I didn’t reply?”
“Because you kept reading them.”
“Persistent, optimistic bugger, aren’t you?” It was the first time since she’d answered that he’d heard a smidgeon of humor in her voice, and that lifted his mood.
“My one redeeming feature,” he said injecting blatant false modesty into his voice. Her responding snort was as close to a laugh as he was going to get from her but he’d take it.
“It wasn’t meant as a compliment,” she clarified.
“No matter. I choose to see it as one.” Another snort and he smiled into the darkness as he imagined her battling with herself in a valiant attempt to keep her humor at bay.
Iris had been staring into the darkness for what felt like hours, restless, with sleep an impossibility as always. Life wasn’t the same. It would never be the same, but it was steadily returning to some semblance of normality.
Iris could still see the questions in people’s eyes—from her family to her new group of friends to the grocer on the corner—questions Iris wasn’t even sure she had the answers to.
Her family and friends didn’t ask. They were waiting for her to break the silence, but the journalists who still dogged her steps—at a more respectful distance thanks to her security team—had no qualms about screaming them at her.
What did you think about Trystan Abbott’s interview with Mike Holmes? Would you ever take him back? How do you feel about him? Do you hate him? Do you love him? How much longer are you going to punish him?
Only Iris didn’t consider it punishment. She was trying to piece her life back together. There was no room in that life for Trystan… or the insanity that surrounded him. She’d had a bitter taste of that life and it had nearly destroyed her. She’d be a fool to go running back to that.
Yet, when his text begging her to answer the phone had come through, the small, niggling part of her brain that kept revisiting his vulnerability in that interview and recalling the naked plea in his voice when he’d publicly begged for her forgiveness, had been unable to resist. Since that interview, Iris had lain awake every night, her restless mind always circling back to the fact that this awful, humiliating thing had happened to them both.
Yes, Trystan had promised to trust her and had broken that promise literal minutes after it had been made. He’d hurt her, humiliated her and abandoned her, but Evan’s article had used Iris’s words, thoughts, and even her emotions, to expose Trystan’s deepest secrets. It had to have been hard for him to see past that and yet—even though it had taken him weeks to do so—Trystan had looked past all of that damning evidence to find the truth. Surely that deserved at least a conversation?
“How are your parents and Robbie?” Trystan asked, his deep voice wrapping around her like a warm, velvety comforter on a chilly night. She snuggled down in her bed—so damned happy she’d taken his call—and let it wash over her. She was disappointed when he didn’t continue speaking after the question was asked, and then she rolled her eyes into the darkness as she realized she’d have to answer it if she wanted him to keep talking.
“They’re fine. Business is picking up nicely again, and Robbie started dating that new girl my parents hired.” She recognized how mundane her response was and wondered why on Earth Trystan, who was currently situated in—what was undoubtedly—a five-star hotel in Madrid, would possibly be interested in the boring details of her ordinary life.
“Yeah?” His voice raised a little, like his interest had been piqued. “I thought she wasn’t that into him.”
He remembered that?
“I’m not going to tell him, but I think she finds him a lot more interesting now because of his tenuous connection to you.”
He snorted, the sound disdainful. “Then he’s better off without her.”
“I think so too. It’ll run its course eventually and he’ll move on, but he’s like a lovesick puppy right now. It’s kind of cute to see him like this, actually.”
“Your parents? Did they get the third van?”
“Uh, yes. Last month.”
“And you, Iris?” His voice deepened on her name. “Have you been writing?”
“I have.”
