Page 83 of The Art of Being a Psychopath

The trees were lit up with fairy lights, and outdoor heaters were set up to keep us warm. The area had a golden glow, magical in fact, and there, beside the lake on the grass was a picnic, with a blanket, cushions, a hamper, and a champagne bucket with ice and two glasses.

“Alex.” I sighed. “This is stunning.”

“You didn’t really think it’d just be a McDonalds drive-through, did you?” he replied with a twinkle in his eye as he watched me take it all in.

“I wouldn’t have minded if it was, but this, it’s... everything.”

He smiled, took my hand in his, and led me to the blanket. I sat down, letting go of his hand as he placed the food we’d brought beside me. Then he took a lighter out of his pocket and began to light various candles in glass jars that were placed around the edge. Once he was happy that everything was perfect, he took his phone out, tapped away at the screen, and then slow, soft music began to play.

“I’ve made a playlist for tonight. I hope that’s all right,” he said, and my heart melted a little more. He’d taken the time to make a playlist, for tonight, for us. He’d sat and thought about every little detail.

“Of course it’s all right. You’ve thought of everything.”

He reached for the champagne and took it out of the ice bucket. Then he popped the cork, and I held the glasses as he poured the champagne.

“I think champagne and milkshake go well together,” he joked placing the bottle back into the ice bucket.

“Champagne and burgers are even better,” I added.

“To us,” he said as he took his glass from my hand and tapped it against mine.

“To new beginnings,” I replied.

We sipped our drinks and then started to eat our burgers, and Alex said, “From the first moment I met you, I knew you were someone I had to get to know. But I don’t know enough. Tell me more about yourself.”

I hated those kinds of questions. I never knew what to say. So, I finished my mouthful, laughed, and replied, “From the first moment? But I was awkward and spoke a load of rubbish.”

“You weren’t awkward, at least, I didn’t see that side of you. I think you were brave, coming to an event like that on your own when you didn’t know anyone, and for a work assignment, too. Give yourself credit, Emma, you stood on your own and you fitted in. You more than fitted in, you shone.”

“That’s kind of you to say, but that night was a turning point for me, and not for the best.”

He raised his brows, then looking affronted, he said, “Perhaps in some respects, but there were positives that came out of that night, too. You met me.” And giving me a knowing smile, he added, “Always look on the bright side. When one door closes, another opens. And I have access to some pretty amazing doors. That night was the start of something beautiful.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I said, sipping my champagne to hide the fact that I was blushing.

“I’m always right. Now, tell me about your childhood.”

I put my glass down and tried to think of the right words as gentle music played quietly around us.

“I had the best childhood,” I told him. “Don’t get me wrong, losing my mum at such a young age was tough, but I couldn’t have asked for a better dad.”

“How old were you when she passed?”

“Eight. But dad was always my hero. He was there for me every day, in every way. He never missed a school event or anything that meant something to me. He put his life on hold to bolster mine.”

“You were his life.”

“I suppose I was. Losing him was tough.” I paused to compose myself. Talking about Dad always made me emotional. “Do you know, he used to send me a Valentine’s card every year with a question mark inside and a single red rose. It was only after he passed away that I realised he’d done that, because the next Valentines, there was no card, no rose.” I smiled at the memory. “To be honest, I always guessed it was him, but I liked to play along and hope it was a mystery admirer. And dad would pretend to be angry when he saw the card and rose. He’d say no one was going to steal his girl away.”

I got choked up thinking about my childhood. There were a million stories just like Valentines that I could tell, but I wasn’t ready to share them. Not yet.

“What about you?” I asked, deflecting. “It must’ve been amazing to grow up in a home like Sunford Manor.”

Alex sighed, but he didn’t look nostalgic about recounting his history, not like I’d been.

“My upbringing was very different to yours, I’m afraid. Yes, we had money, but as we both know, money isn’t everything. It can’t buy you happiness. My mother wasn’t very maternal. Don’t get me wrong, she loved me, but she didn’t really show it through affection. And my father was too in love with my mother to make room for anyone else. He could be a harsh and cruel man, but not to her. Never to her. He treated her like a queen. It was quite fitting that they died together. I don’t think they’d have survived without each other.”

He paused to sip his drink, then added, “I was sent away to boarding school as soon as I was old enough. I spent more time with strangers than I ever did with my parents. But they created me. I suppose I should be grateful for that.”