Aria

Present Day

 

 

 

“I love you.” I stared at the elevator wall.

It’s silent. Which was what I expected as it’s a wall.

Sighing, I shook out my hands. They’re clammy and I feared I’d be too gross to kiss when I’m finished with my speech.

It’s been a week and a half since Morgana’s party. When Alex’s mom left her parents’ house, I asked Alex what she said and he explained he would tell me later.

He has yet to say anything. That’s why I’m here, riding up the elevator to his place. I came to the decision last night. Sitting in the kitchen with Morgana, eating some cake from Morgana’s favorite bakery, I realized that I needed to stop running. Since today is my birthday and I’m officially thirty years old, I figured there was no more using the ‘I’m in my twenties, I’m too young to fall in love’ excuse anymore.

I had to tell Alex I loved him.

It’s not so much the telling him that had my hands feeling like giant slippery otters, it’s his reaction. I knew, logically, he found me attractive and had a crush on me for years . . . But now that he knew me, had taken his time to witness all my flaws, would I hold a candle to the image he painted in his head of me so long ago?

Despite what his mother told him before and during the party, I couldn’t help but believe that Alex was stronger than her words. Besides, we had sex every chance we got. If he didn’t have feelings for me anymore then he would end things, not keep trying to bring me to orgasm.

The door opened and the sight of the paintings, the same masterpieces that captivated me all those months ago, gave me hope. They reminded me of Alex—so vibrant, almost magical, and could easily take my breath away with its power.

When I arrived at the front door it opened automatically. It still gave me the chills knowing no one was behind it. Once I started to paint Alex’s mural he added me to his list of approved people that the door would open for.

The mural had yet to be finished. It’s not that I’m a slow painter but in order to trick Alex’s mom into thinking I was only coming over to paint, I took my time with the mural.

“Alex!” I raised my voice to let him know I was here.

Listening for a response I heard nothing. Perhaps he was in the shower. My lips curved at the thought of joining him.

As I made my way to the bedroom I found it empty, as well as his bathroom. I turned and was stopped by a hard wall covered in a white button-down shirt.

I pulled back and realized it was Bradley. His usual scrutinizing gaze was unusually soft as it fell on me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

“Alex asked me to watch his place while he’s gone.”

I sucked in a breath a little too fast and started to cough. It took a moment but I finally regained my composure. “You? Why would Alex ask you?”

My heart began pounding in my chest as none of this made sense. Where would he go? And why Bradley?

I thought back to when I saw him two days ago, the last time he stayed at my new place. Alex never mentioned going anywhere.

“He knew I could handle any security issues that came up. If you haven’t noticed, he has millions of dollars’ worth of art in his home.”

That did make sense. Perhaps Alex just needed to travel for a short time. That’s when a thought creeped into my head.

What if he’s finding us somewhere to stay on some tropical island somewhere like we dreamed? I bet that’s why he hasn’t told me anything. It’s a surprise.

Maybe he told his mother he was leaving before Morgana’s party and that’s why she showed up at the party to talk him out of it. He didn’t tell me because it would ruin the surprise.

I turned my back to Bradley so he couldn’t see my smile.

“I guess that makes sense. When will Alex be back?” I asked but my mind raced with images of tropical beaches and eating fresh fish in the warm breeze.

“I don’t know. He left this note for you.”

I turned to find Bradley holding a small white envelope. Taking the note, my finger traced the black ink on the back of the envelope spelling out my name. I tore it open and barely noticed Bradley turning his back, this time to give me privacy.

Dear Aria,

I know I promised to tell you everything my mother said but there are things I must do first before I can explain. I understand now why my mother locked me away for all those years and I never thought I would think this, but I don’t blame her.

I paused and flip the paper over.

“Alex wrote this, Bradley? Are you sure about that?”

I didn’t believe for one minute that Alex would ever understand anything that awful woman did to him.

“Yes. I stood next to him as he wrote it and saw him seal it in the envelope.” He turned slightly until he could look me in the eye.

“Why don’t I believe you?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

As Alex mentioned, Bradley was being paid by Alex’s mom. He could easily lie to me. It’s not like I would know Alex’s handwriting. The most I ever saw was his signature on a few legal documents when I looked at the rental contract months ago.

Bradley turned fully to me and stepped closer. There was sorrow in his eyes. The normally tall and menacing Bradley slumped his shoulders with what I thought might be pity or perhaps, exhaustion.

“Aria, I know I haven’t done much to earn your trust, but you have to believe me when I say I care about Alex. I grew up knowing about Alex and playing with him when we were young. When I became a teenager, my mother told me what had happened in his life. All the bad people that surrounded him. That’s why I wanted to work for him. To make sure he was safe.”

“But you never worked for him. You worked for his mother.”

He rubbed his hand across his forehead looking conflicted. “I did, yeah. I did.”

“Did?” I asked.

“I don’t have a job at the moment. Alex said I could stay here while he was away, but his mother fired me when she found out I was locked out of her son’s condo. And I was so relieved. Relieved and scared at the same time.”

I waved my hands to stop him. “Wait. Wait. I don’t understand. I thought you liked Mrs. Hawthorne?”

Bradley threw his head back, laughing heartily. I had always thought of him as a man out to get Alex. His usual steely glare and rigid posture made me want to be as far from him as possible. But as he loosened up with a smile, I suddenly noticed how attractive he was. I’m sure some woman would be thrilled to take him home with her. I wonder if Tiffany would be interested in him. She deserved a man who would fall at her feet and protect her and her son.

“Emma Hawthorne. I don’t think it’s humanly possible to like that woman. My mother did, a long time ago, but Mrs. Hawthorne has changed in the decades Alex’s father’s death. The only reason I let her employ me was so I could keep an eye on Alex. He needed someone, even if it was just me, to look out for him.”

“I’m sorry. I always thought you wanted to hurt Alex, too,” I said.

“Same here. When I first met you and your friends, I thought Mrs. Hawthorne planted you. I didn’t trust you at all. But when you both removed the bugging devices from the room, I knew you weren’t with Emma. You actually cared about Alex.”

I opened my arms wide as a gesture of peace for Bradley. He took my offer and gave me a hug. When I pulled back, I realized I hadn’t finished the letter.

Lifting the paper, I continued.

There are things about my family, about the world we live in, that are dangerous and I am finally starting to understand that. I have to be with my family for a while. It may be days or weeks but know that when I come back, there will be a woman I want you to meet. A woman, though I haven’t seen her since I was too young to remember, I love no matter how much time has passed.

She will be a part of this family when I return. When you meet her, I know you will understand even if you may not right now.

Love,

Alexander

The paper turned translucent where it was pelted from my tears. He loved her? Was this about Alexa? He hadn’t told me much about her, but by the way Alex talked about their past, he had only met her once and neither of them wanted to marry each other.

“Who is Alex talking about, Bradley?” I lifted the paper as it shook in my hands. “Who is this woman?”

His brow knitted as he took the letter. “I don’t know. I was just in the room when he wrote it. I didn’t see what he put in here.”

Bradley began to read it. His eyes widened. He knew. Whoever Alex wrote about, Bradley understood who he mentioned.

“Who is she? You know, don’t you.”

He took a breath before lowering the letter to his side. “The only ‘she’ Alex could be writing about, that I know of, is Alexa Dorton. But I can’t imagine . . . Oh no!”

I snatched the letter out of his hand and made a fist, crumpling it and letting it fall to the ground.

Happy fucking birthday, Aria!

“Oh no? What, oh no?”

“Emma had me intercept Alex’s letters when I first started working here five years ago. He wrote to Alexa once or twice a year. Usually birthday or holiday cards. Nothing I thought was out of the ordinary. Except what he wrote on them. And not just that, but what she wrote back.”

His eyes searched the floor as if looking for answers to Alex’s letter on the hardwood.

“What did they write?” I asked.

“It was weird and made no sense. Like they were using a strange language. Nothing I had seen before. I thought maybe it was old Gaelic or German or Russian, but I couldn’t figure it out,” Bradley said and then held up a finger before disappearing out of the room.

My mind raced with two teenagers making up their own language to send secret messages of love to each other. Was I just something to trick Mrs. Hawthorne into thinking they weren’t in love? It’s not like his mom didn’t want them to marry. So why use me like that?

Bradley ran back into the room out of breath. “Here.” He handed a Christmas card to me. “Alexa sent that to him this past December.”

I opened the card to find two paragraphs of words in a completely different language. The words brought a smile to my face. My heart taking refuge in my throat as I tried to speak.

“Oh my God, I know this. I know what it says,” I said as tears ran down my cheeks.