Page 41 of Tears of Glass

“But Sienna...?

His eyes hold mine. “Sienna is an old family friend. When I found out what Mum was going to do, I came to London and asked her to help out. Sienna is no fan of my mother’s, so she was happy to help.”

“Your mother is a fucking bitch.”

Elijah laughs, and I hate the way I react to the sound; it’s all flushed skin and wild beating heart—the heart he broke only weeks ago. “I can agree she is a fucking bitch.”

“What the hell is she going to say when she finds out about Tabitha expecting a baby?”

Elijah scrubs a hand down his face and for a brief moment he looks utterly exhausted. What has he been going through the last few weeks? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own misery, I haven’t even thought about him. Well I have, and I’ve hated him. Maybe Jennifer Fairclough isn’t the only bitch around.

“So back to what happened at the ball.” I need to get to the bottom of this, then maybe it can stop tormenting me, eating me alive and shattering my heart.

“I never expected her to make the announcement there and then. I was relieved she’d said all the work was yours.” His fingers grasp mine and I want to pull them away. I just can’t quite do it. What is it about Elijah, that he makes me stop and talk when no one else has ever managed to create that with me? “But the thing with my mother is, she’s always got an angle.”

“Is that why you didn’t talk to me at the ball?” The haughty expression on his face when I’d laid my hand on his chest is etched into my memory. “I wish I’d had a chance to dance with you in that dress...”

He turns my hand and traces a pattern along my palm. “I wanted her to think I’d given you up. That our fling was over and I was now ready to toe the family line.”

I have nothing to say. He was trying to protect me, I can see that. But he still broke my heart—knowing the truth doesn’t change anything. I still don’t do second chances. I won’t break another rule for him.

“The fling is over, Elijah.”

His eyes are bright when they land on my face: my eyes, my cheeks, finally my lips. “I know.” His smile is slow, but it’s not overly heartbroken. “Walk with me.”

I should get back. I need to get food; one chocolate croissant isn’t going to cut it for long. “What’s in the bag?” I motion my head to the black rucksack at his feet.

“You’ll see.”

He stands up and shoulders the bag, but doesn’t hold his hand out to me, sliding them instead into his pockets. I follow him.

I follow him for twenty minutes. We make small talk, but it’s strained and awkward as fuck. I want it to be over. I can’t keep seeing him. It’s just all wrong. Nothing feels right anymore. Then I realise where we are.

We are at the gates to uni. The security man is in his box checking the badges of students and staff as they walk in.

Elijah hands me the bag and from his back pocket pulls out a security lanyard. “Some second chances are worth the risk, Faith. Gerard let you down, but you shouldn’t do it to yourself, too.”

“Elijah, I’m not going back to uni. I didn’t even finish the second year? Remember, I packed up and left without handing anything in?”

He smiles. “Gerard is waiting for you. Try not to punch him.” Then slipping his hand into his pockets he walks away without a backwards glance and I’m left standing there by myself with the open gates in front of me.

Chapter Twelve

I stand for a moment outside the door with Gerard’s name tacked onto it in brass. I can’t believe I walked in through the gates. My security card worked, and I didn’t get bounced out onto the pavement—so I guess that’s something.

Before I knock, I unzip the black backpack. It’s got that new bag smell. I peer inside. There’s a leather-bound notebook and a pencil case. “What is this?” I mutter out loud, causing a few passing students to glance in my direction. I grab out the pencil case, blue covered in pink hearts—it’s been made for a thirteen-year-old—and unzip it. Inside is a selection of Caran d’Ache Grafwood pencils and a pen wrapped in a Post-it note. I unravel the Post-it note, and a silver and heavy Montblanc falls into my hand. When I pull the lid, I discover it’s a Meisterstuck with red trim. On the note is a simple message.

For new starts.

My heart pounds, boom-de-boom-de-boom and with shaking hands I put everything back into the girly pencil case and turn for the door.

Am I going to do this?

I never go back on my decision. I never change my mind. So why the hell am I stood outside Gerard’s door?

Bollocks.

I knock and wait until he calls out for me to enter.