Trapped with Mr. Walker

“WE DON’T NEED THAT. Give it to me.”

Suze’s frantic voice calls after six-year-old Emmerson as she runs into the kitchen, brandishing the newspaper like a trophy before holding it out to me with a gap-toothed grin.

“Mommy wanted me to give it to her. But you’re our guest, Auntie Lee-lee. You should read it first.”

My heart squeezes at Emmerson’s sweet little face. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

Suze appears in the kitchen doorway, flustered, and her eyes pinch at the corners as she looks at me with sympathy. “I’m sorry. She grabbed it before I could check it.”

“It’s fine, honestly.”

I sound more certain than I feel as I unfold the paper and hold my breath as the front page comes into view. Yesterday’s front page was a shock. I had no idea anyone from the press had seen me leave with my suitcases. But in a way, I’m grateful it made the front page. At least the blackmailers will have seen it. Although, having my heartbreak splashed across every newsstand in the city is not my ideal day, either.

Probably one of my worst days ever.

And today is also going to be added to that list.

“He looks good. Maybe a little stressed. But… Damn, Harley. I’m sorry, but that man is fine. I’m always on your side, no matter what, okay? Even though you won’t tell me what the hell you two fought about. But I can’t deny it. He must have done something bad for you to choose to move in with me and this…” She peels something that resembles a gummy bear but is now furry off the coffee machine.

Suze opens the trash can and flicks the furry goo inside. Suze has my back. She always has. And I know that ultimately, if I’d told her anything negative that Reed had said or done, then she would defend me with all the savageness of a lioness for one of her cubs. I’ve seen her in action and there is no way would I wish to be on the receiving end.

But I haven’t been able to give her any reason to change her opinion of Reed because he hasn’t said or done anything wrong. In fact, I’ve done nothing but sing his praises since Suze let me stay on her sofa two nights ago. I know I could have asked Maria. But her and Griffin’s place is too close to Reed. I’d risk seeing him in the elevator or even when he goes to visit Griffin. Suze’s place was the safer bet until I get my apartment back. The girl I’ve sub-let mine to asked if she could stay longer a couple of weeks ago. And at the time, things were perfect, so I said yes. I can’t let her down. I can stay with Suze while I figure something out.

“Right. School breakfast club time. I love you.” Suze hugs me from behind.

“Love you, too. Have a great day. I’ll probably work late tonight. Get caught up on some things for Griffin that I had to delay when I took election day off.”

Suze heads toward the front door, and I call goodbye and blow kisses to Emmerson and Mason as they grab their school rucksacks and bustle out of the door.

I bring my attention back to the paper and the dazzling man on the front page. Reed is going into a restaurant with a group of people. He’s wearing his gray suit with a crisp white shirt and red tie. The same one I watched him take off and coil around his hand the evening I wore my caticorn pajamas to wind him up.

The memory makes my stomach sink. That’s all it will be now. A memory that fades.

Looking at Reed’s smile as he talks to the attractive young woman next to him, I suspect the memories of us will fade for him long before they do for me. He’s going to be busy running the city. Another few weeks and he won’t even have time to think about me. That’s if he isn’t too busy already.

Suze is right. He does look stressed. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

I study the picture again, my heart squeezing in confusion. I want him to be happy. But at the same time, if he looked like he had completely forgotten about me already, like I meant nothing to him, then I know that would hurt even more than it does now.

I fold the paper back up and leave it on the counter. At least I have lots to do at work today. Both of us will be kept too busy to think about anything other than what we need to concentrate on.

It’s only 9:30 AM and I can’t concentrate.

All I can think about is Reed.

I got into work a little later than I planned this morning as Suze lives in Brooklyn and I screwed up my estimations over how long the commute would take. I wasn’t late, but I didn’t have time to grab a coffee for Griffin and a latte for me from my favorite coffee place. I was planning on heading straight there once I checked Griffin didn’t need anything else first. But when I got to my desk, there was a hot take-away cup there already, the name ‘Angel’ written on it in thick, black ink. And when I peeked into Griffin’s office, he had a matching cup on his desk.

Reed.

He’d been here moments before I arrived. If I had been on time, then I would have seen him. Is that what he was hoping?

Flutters dance in my stomach at the thought, and I squash them back down. I can’t allow myself to think like that. It won’t do either of us any good.

I’ve made a decision and I have to stick with it.

I knock on Griffin’s door and enter when he calls out.

“I brought you those contracts that need signing for the decorators.” I hand him the list of papers for The Songbird’s private residential foyer, which has been having a re-paint the past couple of weeks.

“Okay.” He frowns at them as he signs each one. He’s managed to delegate signing rights for most things to the hotel management team. But this is Griffin Parker. He’s a control freak. So now and again, he’ll ask me to intercept random contracts and paperwork for him to spot-check. I guess it’s how he puts his mind at ease. I know it drives Maria mad, as it’s the main thing they used to clash heads on when she used to manage The Songbird spa.

But that same facet of his personality is also why I’m praying that going to him for help with the video was the right move. If there’s a way to find out who’s got a copy and why, then he will be able to.

“Could you please add this when you send them back?” Griffin hands me another signed invoice and my stomach churns as I read it.

“This is for the wall in mine and Reed’s—I mean, in Reed’s apartment?”

“It is.” Griffin lifts his eyes to meet mine and I’m met with cool blue.

“It was my fault. I’m sorry.” I swallow as I look at him. Thank God we weren’t in a regular apartment block with thin floors. Griffin and Maria would probably have heard every one of the lies I told Reed if we were.

“It’s no problem. Don’t even think about it, Harley. Reed explained when he came by.”

“This morning?”

“Yes. He came to apologize and to offer to pay for the damage. I told him I’d bust the rest of his knuckles if he mentioned it again.” Griffin’s lips stretch into a smile as he runs his hand down over his tie. “Stupid fucker. He’s lucky he didn’t break his hand.”

I stand mute as my mind whirls. Reed came to offer to pay for the wall. He wasn’t here just to bring coffee and try to bump into me. Or was he doing both? Did he want to see me as well? I screw my eyes up and rub my temples. God, this is a mindfuck. Disappointment drags me down like lead weight at the thought he wasn’t here just for me. But I should be glad. I shouldn’t want him here chasing after me, trying to talk to me. It will only mean I have to lie to his face more than I already have.

“He also told me you had moved out.”

I nod weakly, opening my eyes to meet Griffin’s. “Yes. I’m staying with Suze. I told Maria.”

“I thought so. But I didn’t ask. What you girls talk about between yourselves is private.”

“What about the conversations between us? Is that private, too?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell him for a week and I meant it. I’ve only spoken with people who I need to in order to find out what’s going on.” He watches me closely as my chest sags in relief.

“Thank you. It’s Reed’s past and… I feel guilty enough talking to you about it, even though you already knew. I mean, you were there for him. You lived through that time with him. If I can talk to anyone then it’s you, but…”

“I might be getting somewhere.” Griffin gives me a pointed look and raises his hand as I open my mouth. “We’re not there, yet. But I’ve been talking to someone who has been able to analyze the beginning of the video. Only the beginning.”

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding as Griffin confirms that whoever it is has only seen the beginning of the video. The part before she pushes Reed down onto the bed and keeps undressing him.

That’s as far as I got the last time I opened it. Once I saw her naked and starting to pull Reed’s clothes from his semi-conscious body, I switched it off and ran to throw up. It’s poor quality and too grainy to make out their faces properly. But I couldn’t stomach another second.

I haven’t watched the whole thing.

I can’t.

Griffin took my phone from me and gave me a temporary one. He didn’t tell me what he saw, but he told me enough to confirm that there is more on the video. A lot more. And that my suspicions were right about it appearing to be Reed’s assault filmed from start to finish.

“You can have your phone back soon, Harley,” Griffin says.

“It doesn’t matter.” I drop my eyes to the floor and to a small patch of rainbow light that’s been created by the sun shining through a vase of flowers on Griffin’s desk. If only there was a pot of gold at the end of it. A pot of gold in the shape of a solution to this giant mess.

I give Griffin a tiny smile. The upside of me not having my phone is that I can’t stare at photographs of me and Reed that I took on it and cry myself to sleep at night.

I Google him and cry that way instead.

Most of the images are of him alone. Doing interviews, press conferences, and things like that. But there are some of the two of us looking happy together, as well as the awful breakup day images. Of the ones of us together, there’s a mix of both before and after the president’s retreat. When we were a fake, and then a real couple. Reed’s eyes don’t change between them. That’s the main thing that struck me as I stared at one photo after another after another. My eyes change. The way I look at him softens with each photograph, and my smile widens. It’s too subtle for anyone but me to notice.

But Reed?

His eyes don’t change.

He’s looking at me with the same glow in them in every picture, from the very first one, until the last. He’s looking at me as if he’s always known something special would connect the two of us one day.

And he was right.

We were special. Both of us held pain in our hearts from the trauma in our pasts. A trauma he claims he is free of. But I don’t think he could make such a claim if he knew this video exists.

I don’t know what it would do to him. And that terrifies me. What if it pushes him into that dark place again and there isn’t anyone there to pull him back from the edge? The thought of him drowning him in the past again frightens me so much that for the past two nights, I have shaken and cried on Suze’s couch. Only sleeping when exhaustion finally wins, giving me a few hours’ respite.

“We’ll sort it out, Harley,” Griffin says, his voice steeped in steely determination. “I won’t let the woman in that video almost ruin his life again. Or steal what he’s only just found for the first time now, with you.”

When I get in after work, Suze’s house is empty. She texted and said they may try to catch dinner and a movie tonight as a treat, and did I want to join them. But I declined. As much as I love her and the kids, I would be terrible company.

I change into some sweatpants and a t-shirt. I can’t bring myself to put on my pajamas, even though they’re the comfiest thing I own. They just make me think of him. Maybe I should put them in the trash. It’s not like I can ever wear them again without feeling like my heart is being ripped out.

I pour a large glass of wine and flop down onto Suze’s sofa. I’m flicking through the TV channels half-heartedly when my phone rings. I’ve only given my new number to a handful of people, so I answer it without even looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Harley?”

“Stu?” I sit up straight. “Why are you calling me? Is Reed okay?”

“He’s fine.”

I slouch back against the cushions as I exhale. Hang on, I didn’t give Stu my number.

“I got your number from Griffin,” he explains before I ask. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“Me?” I pick a glittery pink thread off my sweatpants and frown at my slippers. Reed was right, these things do shed everywhere. I slip them off and curl my feet underneath me on the sofa. Perhaps they will be joining the caticorn pajamas in the trash can of heaven where the clothes from breakups go.

“Yes, you. Reed says you haven’t spoken to each other since… well, since…”

“Since I left?” I drop my head against the sofa cushions and close my eyes. “We haven’t. I… I had a problem with my phone. Griffin’s getting it fixed for me, but until then I have a temporary number.”

“I see.”

“How is he, Stu?”

“I called to ask how you are, Harley,” Stuart says gently before sighing when I don’t answer. “He’s focused. Reed is… being Reed. Only more intense, more determined, and more motivated. Even more so than when the campaign was running.”

“Oh.” I swallow the dry lump that’s lodged itself in my throat. “That’s… good.”

If Reed is throwing himself into work, then he’s either coping better than me, seeing as I can’t concentrate on anything right now, or he’s not as affected as I thought he was.

“I’m not sure it is. He’s going to burn out before he moves to Gracie Mansion at this rate. I’ve known him a while. This is a new level of obsession, even for him.”

Stuart sounds worried and that worries me. Stuart’s feathers never get ruffled. He’s smoothed over major scandals for political clients he’s worked with in the past. And he does it without ever breaking a sweat. Reed always said he’s excellent at his job, always calm, level-headed, knowing what to do in any scenario.

“I don’t know what to say.”

My thoughts immediately picture Reed cracking his knuckles too harshly, the way he does when he’s stressed or anxious. I first noticed it when Maria and Griffin broke up for a while. It was ages ago now, but we all cared so much for them both, and to see them hurting was hard for all their friends. I would see him do it whenever he visited Griffin at work. His lips would be in a grim line as he sat and cracked them one by one. The sound made me shiver, like nails on a chalkboard. I didn’t notice him doing it when I lived with him. Not to that sound level and intensity, anyway.

“Look. I don’t know what’s happened between you both. And it’s none of my business. But if it’s Bea making trouble, then I—”

“Wait? Bea? Why are you bringing her up?” I sit up straight again.

“She came here the day before the press ran their story about you moving out. And then she was back yesterday. With a gift basket.”

“A gift basket?” I screw my nose up. That’s so weird.

“Yeah. Odd, right? She said it was from her and Graham as a congratulations on winning the mayor role. But Graham wasn’t with her either time. A guy wouldn’t send another guy a basket of fruit and shit, anyway. It was obviously only from her. I doubt Graham even knew she had brought it.”

“Why would she do that?” I scramble through my thoughts to think of any reason Bea might start being nice when she has all the empathy of a praying mantis that rips its old mate’s head off and then eats him.

“I don’t know. But Reed was in a foul mood afterward. Look, Harley. I’m not telling you this to suggest there’s anything to worry about. I can easily tell you that Reed would never go back there. I wasn’t even going to mention it. I just called to see how you are. Paige was asking after you.”

“She was?” Warmth flickers in my chest as I picture her adorable little face and the way she calls Reed, ‘Weed’.

“Well, you can tell her that I’m fine next time you speak to her. And you can tell her that I have some cute bunny videos to show her when we next…” My heart sinks. There will be no reason or circumstance where I will spend time with Paige again. Not now that Reed and I aren’t together.

“Actually. I’m looking after her just while her mom goes to an appointment tomorrow. Why don’t you meet us on your lunch break? We can walk in the park?” Stuart says.

“Are you sure?” I ask, but my lips are already stretching into the first smile I’ve had in days. There’s no room for heartbroken moping with a cute as a button five-year-old who shares my love of animals and funny videos. “I would love that.”

“All right, then. See you tomorrow at twelve-thirty.”

I end the call, feeling more positive than I have all day. This is how I will have to do things. One day at a time. Something nice to look forward to that keeps me moving forward.

I drain the remnants of wine from my glass and put it on the floor next to my discarded slippers. I’m staring at them when my phone rings again.

“Hello?”

“Harls.”

The deep voice on the other end has my stomach leaping into my throat. It’s been two days. Two days of not hearing from him. I purposefully didn’t give him my new number so that he wouldn’t call me. Although, I also asked him not to. So maybe he hasn’t even tried until now. Maybe this is the first time. But then how would he have gotten it? I’ve only just ended my call from Stuart. Could he have told him so quickly? Could he have—?

“I can hear your brain thinking from here,” Reed says, his voice warm and sprinkled with amusement.

“It’s… yes, it’s certainly thinking.” I whip my eyes around the room and then to the window. I get up and tiptoe over there, peeking through the drapes. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see. Reed on the doorstep? But he’s not. The street outside is empty except for one woman walking past carrying grocery bags.

“I forced Griffin to give me your new number when I saw your old phone in his office. Maria’s already threatened to have his balls for letting me have it, so go easy on him.” I can hear the smile in Reed’s voice before he exhales heavily. “God, I miss you.”

“Reed, we—”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I just… I just really fucking miss you, Harls.”

There’s a cracking down the phone and I drop my head forward into my hand to rub at my temples, attempting to ease the pounding that’s building there.

“Are you cracking your knuckles?”

There’s a pause.

“Guilty,” Reed confesses with a soft chuckle.

“Stuart said you’d been doing it more.” The corners of my lips lift at the sound of Reed’s amused grumble.

“You’ve talked to Stuart then? But you can’t talk to me?”

The tiny smile drops from my face. Reed’s voice is soft and not accusing in any way. Yet, the undercurrent of hurt and confusion screams through his words. I wish I could tell him that there’s nothing I want more than to be with him tonight, instead of drinking wine alone on my friend’s sofa.

But I can’t.

“I…”

“It’s okay…” He sighs. “No. That’s a lie. Honestly? It’s far from fucking okay to me that you don’t feel you can tell me everything that’s going on. Because I know you’re not telling me everything… But that’s on me. If you can’t talk to me about anything, and I mean anything, then that’s my fault. Not yours.”

“Reed…” My voice pitches as I squeeze my eyes closed. “It’s not because I don’t want to… It’s… There are things… I’m sorry,” I whisper finally, my chest sagging.

What else can I say? Sorry will never explain it. Sorry will never be enough. But it’s the only safe word I have.

“Griffin mentioned you haven’t been sleeping?” Reed says, changing the subject.

I look up to the ceiling and shake my head. Unbelievable.

“What else did he tell you? That I had a pee break at seven minutes past eleven and that I sneezed a grand total of nine times through the day?” I roll my eyes and wrap one arm around my body.

Despite the conversation feeling heavy only moments ago, Reed laughs, immediately lifting the cloud away that was threatening to engulf us both.

God, I’ve missed his laugh. I’ve missed everything. But especially his laugh. Whenever I hear it, I know that in that exact moment, he’s happy. And that makes my heart full. Talking to him has always lifted my spirits. Even though I should be ending this call before things get harder, I can’t. Hearing his voice and laugh again feels too good.

“How are you?” I ask.

“I’d be better if you were here,” he answers immediately.

My heart hammers in my chest, and I sniff as hot tears spring to my eyes. “You would?”

“Yes, Angel.”

I clasp my hand over my mouth to stifle the small sob that spills from it.

Angel.

“Reed, I can’t… we shouldn’t be—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I don’t want to upset you. I just called to say goodnight. Are you in bed?”

“Not yet.” I suck in a breath and wipe my eyes with my free hand.

“Go and get ready. I’ll stay on the line.”

I look at the pile of bedding on the floor by the sofa, ready for me to make up my bed for the night.

“I need to set it up. And brush my teeth.”

“Go do it. I’ll wait.”

“Okay.”

I leave the call connected and put it onto speaker as I make up the bed, pausing as I finish and hesitating over what to say next. Reed beats me to it.

“Go use the bathroom, Harls. I’m still here.”

I nod even though he can’t see me, and I do as he says. When I come back, I flick the lamp off and slide beneath the blankets.

“I’m back.”

“Good.” The tenderness in his voice is calming and soothing, the same way it always was when he whispered goodnight to me and kissed my hair when we went to bed. Two nights without it. Two nights missing him.

Missing everything.

“Now close your eyes. I’m going to stay on the line until I know you’re asleep.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I say into the dark.

His voice fills the room, chasing away the shadows. “I do, Angel.”

And as I close my eyes, the gentle chords of his guitar carry through the phone’s speaker, followed by his deep voice singing a song that I’ve heard on the radio, Jason Mraz’s “I won’t give up.”

He’s singing it to me. He couldn’t make it any clearer. He doesn’t want to give up on us.

But he has to. Otherwise, he could lose everything.

I screw my face up tight and bury it in the duvet to muffle my crying as I listen to him. Every word is impregnated with meaning. Every syllable, a promise to me that he will fight for us. But he doesn’t know what he’s fighting against.

The song comes to an end, and I freeze, afraid to move or speak.

Afraid to do anything.

I’m not strong enough to lie to him in this moment when he’s just opened his heart so honestly to me.

So I say nothing. I do nothing.

Reed stays on the line for a long time, probably trying to work out if I’m asleep.

Then finally his voice cuts through the night.

“Harls, I lo—” He clears his throat, thinking better of whatever he was going to say, and simply says, “Sleep, Angel.”

Then he hangs up.