Keep Me In | DR3 | BOOK 1

57 - Hard Conversations

"Alana? Her? She- I- The last time I saw her..." Daniel struggled, his face scrunching up and his body retreating backwards.

"I saw an article," I pulled my phone out, searching as I spoke. "On the Daily Mail. Rory found it, actually."

"Tell me you've got some crazy, fucked-up good excuse for hiding this one, babe."

--

If I had a chance to look at myself in a mirror, I would probably be horribly thrown by the fury reflected in my eyes. That is, if it was as clear as the shame in Daniels.

My mind ran wild as Daniel stood in front of me. Thoughts of him and Alana, graphic images of them laughing together, at my expense. Daniel knowingly going behind my back, going through all the effort, and for what? To have both of us? Was it greed?

Did Alana know that he had been two-timing us? I mean, it would be easy enough for him to hide the fact from her. She lives all the way in Monaco. Her only connection to me is through her sister, coincidentally one of the closest people in my life. And ironically - estranged to her. 

But Julia did point out that Alana had been crashing at their parents home, just a 45 minute drive away, for the past couple of weeks. It wasn't horribly close, though closer than she normally was. Close enough for Daniel to secretly meet with her in his small amount of spare time.

"Fuck," I muttered, the sound muffled by my hand, placed lightly on my lower lip. I looked to the door, head shaking in denial, my mouth contorting into a frown as I ignored the pressure building behind my eyes. The twisting and turning in my chest. How my entire body seemed to scream at me, telling me to get out of there. Out of that kitchen. Out of London. But my feet remained planted, reflecting the air of someone, a version of myself, that had all the confidence in the world.

I had to be confident, to stand up for myself. It was all I had left, save for a bruised ego.

"Nothing to say, hey?" I held myself, arms crossed across my torso. Daniel jumped as I spoke, breaking the silence. I don't know how long we had stood there, waiting for something to happen, the distance between us growing with every still second. 

This had to be karma, rearing its ugly head as soon as things were getting good. Consistently good. There always had to be some kind of roadblock. Nothing ever really came easily. Though at the same time, knowing what I know, I should have seen it coming. I knew better.

My body shifted quickly into action. I couldn't just stand there, watching him writhe helplessly as he searched for whatever he could pass off as a reason. 

"I'll just show myself out, then," I smacked my lips together, let myself straighten out with a sharp inhale, and gathered my things. His body language, the look in his eye, it all told me everything I needed to know. 

I threw my sweater on, not minding my hair and how it messed it up. My keys were on the counter, I'd grab them before I reached the elevator. 

Maybe it would be better for me not to know all the details. I didn't need to know how many times he'd seen her behind my back, successfully staying out of the public eye. How he could look me in the eye, and tell me he loved me. What all of that effort was, the weekend of Bahrain, chartering a private plane for my family.